




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap,.^„. Copyright No.. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






























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THE DISCOVERY OF THE TREASURE. 



RexWayland’s Fortune 

OR 

THE SECRET OF THE THUNDERBIRD 


„ BY 

H/A. STANLEY 

t i 


ILLUSTRATED 


He loved excitement and adventure 

— Macaulay. 



CHICAGO 

Laird & Lee, Publishers 


C I «. 






15115 


Entered according to Act of Congress, i.i i.ie ye^r 1898, by 

Wm. H. Lee, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 


All rights reserved. 


■C^ oO'iCt of 

SEP 1 9 1898 


■AO 




TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 

!n ^<= 1 % 




Dedication 


TO THE MOTHERS OF OUR LAND, 

WHO ARE WHAT THE MOTHER OF MY SONS IS; 

t 

TO THE SONS, 

WHO ARE AS MANLY, SELF-RELIANT AND MOTHER-LOV- 
ING AS I HOPE MY BOYS WILL EVER BE, THIS PLAIN 
STORY IS REVERENTLY AND AFFECTIONATELY 

dedicated. That it may make stronger 

THE BOND OF AFFECTION AND RE- 
SPECT, BETWEEN MOTHER AND 
SON EVERYWHERE, IS THE 
DESIRE AND AIM OF 


THE AUTHOR. 



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CHAPTERS 

PAGE 

I. — From Frost to Flowers — The Waylands and 

a Webfoot 9 

II. — A Motley Throng — Strange Scenes in Storm 

and Sunshine 16 

III. — The Waylands’ New Home— An Honest Swede 23 

IV. — Sports on Puget Sound— Wicked Butchery of 

Salmon 30 

V. — Ichabod Benjamin Franklin Estus — A True 

Sportsman 37 

VI. — The Princess Angeline Receives Guests 45 

VII. — The Princess Sees a Vision and is Greatly 

Shocked 51 

VIII. — Wonderful “Old Man House” — Siwash His- 
tory, Religion and Superstition 56 

IX. — The Princess in a Trance — A Weird Potlatch 

or Feast Song — Astonishing Revelations.. 65 

X. — Uncle Festus Tells What They Mean 73 

XI. — A Beautiful Night— Rex Has Strange Dreams 80 

XII. — “The Book! The Book! The Spanish Diary 

Is Mine.” 84 

XIII. — Uncle Festus Says: “ Return the Book.” 91 

XIV. — Colonel Wayland’s Sudden Death Shocks All.. 103 

XV. — Rex Fails to Find Employment — Uncle Festus 

to the Rescue 113 

XVI. — Seabeck’s Busted Boom — Some True Cougar 

Yarns 120 


5 


6 


CHAPTERS 


PAGE 


XVII. — Rex Secures Some Domestic Help— Uncle 

Festus Surprised 130 

XVIII. — A Model Logging Camp Described 139 

XIX. —How They Log in Washington — “U ncle, Ange- 

line’s Dead.” 146 

XX. — Rex Secures the Diary — Thrilling Adventure 

with a Cougar 155 

XXI.— Studying Spanish and the Olympics 165 

XXII. — Diary of Andres Tenorio— Some New Light 

on Spanish and Indian History 17T 

XXIII. — The Spanish Diary Continued — Death of Dis- 
coverer Perez — Horrible Human Sacrifice 186 


XXIV. — The Diary Discussed — Interesting History — 


“I’m Going to Find That Treasure.” 203 

XXV. — Peroux and Perry, Two Typical Mountaineers 210 

XXVI. — Packing in the Mountains — Perry Prods a 

Tenderfoot 221 

XXVII. — After Elk Above the Clouds — Peroux’s 

Wonderful Nerve — Rex Gets an Elk 230 

XXVIII. — Another Hunt and a Bear — Terrific Battle 

with an Elk 244 

XXIX. — Elias Parmle, Prospector — Astonishing Story 

of Big Elk Horns 259 

XXX.— Climbing Toward Mount Olympus— “ Can You 
Sleep Standing Up?” — Snow Slides and 

Floods 271 

XXXI. — Snowed In— Comfort in a Log Box — “Do you 

See the Pass?” 282 

XXXII. — A Perilous March — Double Grave in the Snow 

— The Pass at Last 292 

XXXIII.— On Pisgah’s Lofty Height — A Canaan Among 

Snow Peaks 299 


CHAPTERS 


7 

PAGE 

XXXIV. — Rock of Ages, The Bottomless Pit and Other 

Weird Wonders— Rex Disappears 307 

XXXV. — Tumbling into an Important Discovery— Pros- 
pecting about the Crater 316 

XXXVI. — The Crater Dynamited — A Grand Sight — 

Elias Thinks Rex Crazy 325 

XXXVII. — A Lucky Day — Both Treasure and Elk Horns 

— Elias Displays Horse Sense 336 

XXXVIII. — A Boy, a Man and a Bald-face Bear — Bruin 

Sustains the Reputation of His Tribe 349 

XXXIX. — Elias Departs and Rex is Hunted by Wolves 

— A Hair-Raising Experience 360 

XL.— And Now for the Coast — A Trip that Tries 

Men’s Souls 374 

XLI. — A Mother’s Anxiety — Home at Last — Divi- 
sion of the Spanish Treasure 386 





Rex Wayland’s Fortune 


CHAPTER I 

FROM FROST TO FLOWERS THE WAYLANDS 

AND A WEB-FOOT 

“Hi,dere! You boy Rex! Wakeup! Yer f adder 
— de Kunnel — done sent me back ter rout you out o’ 
dis. He nearly ready fer his breakfuss. Mus’ be 
you done f ergot ’bout de green grass in de winter 
time you was a-gwine ter see when we got down 
dis side o’ de Cascades. Hear me now? Start 
yose’f! We be at Puyallup ’fore ye know it.” 

Rex opened his eyes with a start and was at once 
wide-awake. Eagerly he pulled the curtains aside 
from the window of his berth and beheld, in the gray, 
smoky light, green patches of grass flitting by, as the 
heavy Northern Pacific Overland pursued its flight 
down grade toward Puget Sound. The sight was a 
novel one, for in all his fifteen years he had never be- 
fore seen green fields on New Year’s morning. “And 
so far north, too, ’ ’ he thought, as he groped about 
for his clothes. 


9 


IO 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


“A happy New Year, mother!” he sang out, as 
Mrs. Wayland emerged from the ladies’ toilet room, 
where she had combed her hair as carefully as when 
at home. 

‘‘Thank you, Rex; and may it be a happy one for 
you, too. Have you looked out this morning?” 

“Oh, yes, mother. I took a peep before I com- 
menced dressing. The fields are green — just as 
the porter said they would be, aren’t they? How 
wonderful, and we six hundred miles farther north 
than at home! I thought last night when he was 
telling us, he was fooling — we’ve been joking him, 
you know, all the way from St. Paul west; and 
once in the night, about one o’clock, I think, I 
awoke and looked out to see from six to eight feet 
of snow. ” 

“Yes, and so did I. I saw snow as late as 2 130 this 
morning, but I knew that when we got down out of 
the mountains there would be much less of it. I 
confess I had doubts of Caesar’s story, that only 
once in the five years he has run over this road has 
he seen snow within fifteen miles of the Sound. 
The Japan current must have more influence on 
this Sound country than people east generally sus- 
pect. But hurry up, Rex, and get ready for break- 
fast. We change cars at Puyallup in forty minutes. 
This train goes from there on to Tacoma and Port- 
land. ” 

While at breakfast, the Colonel, Mrs. Wayland 
and Rex could scarcely believe their eyes, for, 
instead of the snow that surrounded them at night- 
fall, they now saw the greenest of fields and swept 


FROM FROST TO FLOWERS 1 1 

past bright glancing waters. Breakfast over, they 
began hastily to gather up the small belongings 
that had served to • while away the hours of the long 
cold journey westward, over the frozen plains of 
North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, and eastern Wash- 
ington. As they stepped out on the long plat- 
form at Puyallup, to await the train north for 
Seattle, they were even more greatly surprised at 
the balmy air and apparent springtime all about 
them. Roses bloomed in a little garden over acrpss 
the way, the station hands were working about in 
their shirt sleeves, and it seemed much like a rainy 
June morning in New York. As they boarded 
the train for the thirty-one mile run down to Seattle, 
they struck up a conversation with an old gentleman 
in the next seat, who seemed only too happy to talk 
about the country. He was apparently in love with 
it, and warmed up as he proceeded. 

“Yes, the Sound country’s a leetle wet. In fact, 
the folks over east of the mountains call us web-feet 
over here, but we don’t mind that. We jest paddle 
’round, contented as ye please. Now, this ’ere is 
one of our nice winter mornin’s. It don’t happen to 
rain, but I persoom ’twill ’fore night. Ye ain’t seen 
Rainier yet, have ye?’’ 

“Rain here?” said Mrs. Wayland, innocently, 
“Why no. We’ve but just come and it hasn’t 
rained — ” 

“He means Mount Rainier , mother,” broke in 
Rex, who was quite tickled by his mother’s blunder. 

“Yes, ma’am. I mean our big mountain over to 
the south. It’s the highest peak in this region, 



A FIRST VIEW OF MT. RAINIER. 


\ 


12 


FROM FROST TO FLOWERS 


13 


being 14,444 feet. The next curve we make you 
just look out, and I think you kin ketch a glimpse of 
it. The air is purty clear this mornin’, although it 
may not be twenty minutes from now. ” 

As he spoke, a curve was rounded, and to the 
southeast, apparently three or four miles distant, 
the Wayland family first beheld that immense dome 
of ice and snow they were later to see so many times 
and never find twice the same. As they looked, that 
morning, the first rays of the rising sun were gilding 
its alabaster sides, changing them in places from 
pure white to pink and green. The view was only 
fleeting, but all drew a long breath of wonder as the 
train, again taking the straight line, shut off this 
grand sight. 

“Wasn’t that glorious? — and so near!” exclaimed 
Mrs. Wayland. 

“Not so very near, ma’am. That mountain is 
nearly sixty miles away. There are mornings in 
spring when it looks even nearer. I saw a bank of 
clounds coming up just then, and, I persoom, in half 
an hour you won’t see it at all. ” 

The train was now rapidly nearing Seattle, and 
the blue waters of the great Sound stretcfied away 
to the left. The Wayland family were charmed by 
the novel, yet familiar expanse, for though living all 
their lives in an inland town, they had occasionally 
journeyed to the sea-shore, and had learned to love 
the changing views the sea affords. As they ran out 
past the mouth of the Duwamish River and abreast 
of Duwamish Head, the broad expanse of not only 
Elliott Bay, but the main roadstead, stretched away 


i4 


REX WAYLARD’S FORTUNE 


to the west, the waters suggesting bronze, so 
smooth and unruffled were they. Nearer in, several 
steamers ploughed their way, while out toward the 
main Sound two or three sailing-vessels, every stitch 
of canvas set, were striving to beat in against the 
light shore breeze which invariably blows clear 
night and morning. Fourteen or fifteen miles to the 
westward was seen a vast black cloud, like the smoke 
of some great conflagration, and this, their "new friend 
informed them, rose from the fires of the Blakely Mill, 
the largest lumber mill in the world. “It is on 
Bainbridge Island,” he pursued, “and its fires never 
die out. It runs night and day. That point of land 
to the left there, coming out around Duwamish 
Head, is Vashon Island. Hello! There’s a squall 
blowin’ up from the sou ’west, rollin’ right up acrost 
Vashon and in toward Magnolia Head. Now watch 
them fellows take in sail. ’ ’ 

He was right. A squall was coming, swifter in its 
flight than even their train, and already the white 
caps began to appear, while a rapidly approaching 
circle of blackness preceded them, along the erstwhile 
quiet bosom of the great bay. In a breath the scene 
had changed. The sailboats, but a few seconds before 
so erect and stately, were now bent far forward, while 
their crews hastily took in canvas, and prepared to run 
before the blast. Those nearest Duwamish Head 
took the wind right abeam, and rounding the head 
were soon safe in Seattle Harbor, while others farther 
out scudded away up the sound, beyond Magnolia 
Bluff, Four Mile Rock, and so on behind West 
Point. 


FROM FROST TO FLOWERS 


15 


“Mighty ketchy weather here in winter,” re- 
marked the self-styled web-foot, as the train rolled 
into the station, “and as that squall hes brought my 
rain, ye may as well hist yer umberell, fer here’s 
Seattle, where we git out.” 


CHAPTER II 


A MOTLEY THRONG — STRANGE SCENES IN STORM AND 
SUNSHINE 

Everybody in Seattle seemed prepared for the 
rain. Mackintoshes were more in evidence than 
umbrellas, and old and young wore not only these, 
but rubber boots and overshoes. There was one 
exception — the logger, who strolled .about the 
wharves in picturesque flannel blouse and leather 
boots with enormously thick soles. These soles were 
either hob-nailed or calked with sharp steel spikes 
from half to three-fourths of an inch in length, that 
the wearer might more easily maintain his footing 
on slippery logs, afloat or ashore. The legs of these 
boots, soft and pliable, were laced in front from 
instep to knee, and half-way down at the back and on 
either side. A motley group it was that stood about the 
station and wharves of Seattle — a group the like of 
which can be found nowhere else in the world. The 
ubiquitous hackman, bawling loudly; the soberly- 
clad immigration agent; the smartly-dressed real 
estate boomer, from under whose elegant cape- 
mackintosh flashed diamonds of the first water; the 
phlegmatic, white-haired Swede; the sandy Nor- 
wegian; the Maine man, or down easter, who takes 
quite naturally to logging; the Chinaman whose 
long cue is coiled up under a sou’wester and over 
whose flowing garments hangs a rubber coat, a 


A MOTLEY THRONG 


17 


mackintosh or a slicker; the alert little Jap in natty 
business suit, standing as expectant as a terrier at a 
rat-hole ; the fashionably attired lady or gentleman, 
jostled by the shivering Kanaka; the Italian salmon 
fisherman, who, standing with folded arms, flashes 
his glittering black eyes, or his gleaming teeth, at 
some fellow countryman among the new-comers. 
And last but not least, the flat-nosed, broad- 
mouthed, thick-lipped Siwash, who stolidly views 
all new-comers as if unaware that they are eventually 
to drive him from his beloved beach, “spouting” 
clam and “logy” dog-salmon. 

Yes; it would be indeed difficult to find any- 
where in the world such a mixed crowd as is always 
to be seen on the wharves over which all railways 
run their trains on entering or leaving Seattle. 
Though a city of 75,000 population, there is here 
wharf-room for a city of half a million, and being 
built of wood on piles, these wharves seem almost 
unsafe. They are occupied not only by “wharfingers” 
and seamen, but by boat-builders, mill-owners, 
shops, stores and even residences. The wealth of 
the fish display is something remarkable, even at 
the holiday season. Open canneries and packing 
houses put up tons and tons of salmon and other fish. 
On all sides are booths and stalls for the sale of 
smelt, cod, mackerel and almost every other variety 
of fish, there being ninety-five varieties of food fish 
in Puget Sound alone. Here is a game market in 
which is offered for sale every variety of duck, goose, 
partridge, grouse, quail, deer, bear, mountain goat, 
sheep, and others of the innumerable bird and beast 


i8 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


tribes of this wonderful region. Everything in the 
line of fruit or vegetables from both temperate and 
tropical zones is here displayed or seen in transit. 
Gunny-sacks, baskets, bales and hampers, largely 
take the place of boxes and barrels used in other 
portions of the world. One of the striking sights of 
these wharves is the immense sticks of timber ready 
for shipment, some of them one hundred and fifty to 
two hundred and fifty feet in length, and squaring 
from two to three feet. Great square piles of cedar 
shingles in bunches are also ranged beside larger 
lumber piles. In short, there is always a wealth of 
remarkable objects on these wharves, and such novel 
sights were greatly enjoyed by the Waylands, who, 
like the majority of the people of the Union, had 
never before visited this corner of Uncle Sam’s do- 
mains. Astonished and pleased as they were by the 
bustle of business on all sides, they could not but note 
the cheap character of the wharves and adjacent 
buildings, and were conscious of dissatisfaction at 
the crude appearance of everything as compared with 
cities of their older coast. 

“What d’ye think of it?’’ was the query of the old 
gentleman who volunteered to show Rex and his 
mother about a bit, while the Colonel looked after 
the baggage. Rex said nothing, but his mother, 
w*ith an evident desire to please the kind old man, 
returned : 

“Why, I presume the rain renders everything 
more forlorn than it otherwise would be, but it all 
looks so new and rough to us.” 

“That’s what everybody says, ma’am, an’ it is 


A MOTLEY THRONG 


19 


new an’ rough, but if people will congregate in such 
numbers and do so much business in such surround- 
in’s, it proves this must be a nateral center an’ a 
productive one as well, don’t it?” Mrs. Wayland 
assented, and he went on: “When ye climb the hill 
yonder, on some o’ these street cars, ye’ll see a city 
a-stretchin’ away on all sides, nine miles long by 
three wide, coverin’ more groun’ it’s true than it 
needs at present, an’ more than it can well cover, 
but all showin’ the faith o’ the people. Yes’m, ye 
see here the rough blockin’ out of a city that’ll yit 
be to this entire coast what New York or Boston be 
to that coast — a city that’ll hev a population of half 
a million in thirty year. As fer this unsightly water 
front, it stretches along in a half-circle fer five or six 
mile, round the finest harbor in the world ; a harbor 
which, like all this vast sound, with its two 
thousand mile o’ coast-line, is jest jam full o’ the 
finest fish. Right over behind that range of hill 
yonder, only two mile away, is a fresh-water lake, 
twenty-seven mile long, five hundred foot deep, an’ 
the purtiest body o’ fresh water ye ever see, ’cept 
Lake Union, which lays out north, over this first little 
ridge, not more’n a mile away. Jest think of it — a 
city with salt water in front, fresh water at the rear, 
an’ that Lake Washington is an inland sea if ever 
there was one, an’ a fresh- water lake in its very 
center. No other city in the world was ever so 
blessed.” 

“Yes; no doubt; and there seems to be still more 
water coming down,” remarked Mrs. Wayland, with 
a look of dissatisfaction on her expressive face. 



A MOTLEY THRONG 


21 


“But is the city all built of this coarse, rough lum- 
ber? Why, the very streets seem paved with these 
huge wooden planks. ’ ’ 

“Oh, that’s only down Tong shore. You go up a 
block an’ you’ll find as fine brick an’ stone buildin’s 
as ye ever see, an’ brick pavement. Oh, you ain’t 
seen Seattle yit. Wait a week!’’ And the old man 
turned away just as the Colonel came up with an 
expressman for their luggage, which must go to a 
furnished house they had rented before starting from 
the east. This man declared it would be easier 
riding by cable car than cab, and so they took the 
first car-line and were soon being whisked toward 
the top of one of the high hills. This they mounted 
and made a dive into a depression. 

Mrs. Wayland clutched at her seat ejaculating — “I 
have heard that Rome was built on seven hills, but I 
believe Seattle is on at least seventy. ” As she spoke, 
she lost her hold and slid helplessly along the smooth 
seat, the car rounding corners and curves, up one 
hill and down another and crossing other lines on all 
of which were other rapidly-moving cars. 

“I see very few horses here, mother,” laughed 
Rex. “It must be that cars are popular. ” 

“Yes,” said the Colonel, “I understand they have 
a hundred miles of car-line in this small city. Hey, 
there! The sun is smiling on us again.” Ashe 
spoke, the rain ceased as suddenly as it had com- 
menced, and everything, for everything was wet, 
glistened in the soft sunlight. They had now 
mounted a higher hill, and away to the west stretched 
the beautiful bay and sound with its wooded islands 


22 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


darkly green, the lighter green waters between, yet 
showing white caps, traces of the recent squall. 

“Did you ever see anything more beautiful than 
that sound?” exclaimed Rex, enthusiastically. 

“No; I never did,” admitted his mother, her eyes 
shining as she tool? in the view. 


CHAPTER III 


THE WAYLANDS’ NEW HOME — AN HONEST SWEDE 

From the end of the cable-line it was but a short 
walk to their new home, and the Waylands pressed 
forward with eagerness to obtain their first view of 
“a house all furnished for tenants.” Out east in the 
small town they had always lived in, such a thing as 
renting a house furnished was unheard of, and just 
how much or how little they were now to find, all 
felt curious to know. 

“Here’s the number, mother — 1424, and as the 
window shades are down, this must be the place.” 
The Colonel paused, took a photograph from his 
pocket, and after looking at it, walked up to the 
rustic gate and lifted the rope which held it to 
the post. At the front door he looked over his 
shoulder with a smile, as he remarked: “Guess I’ll 
push the bell before I try the key in the door.” No 
one answered the bell, and whipping out his key, 
he applied it and the three entered one of the 
prettiest of tastefully-carpeted halls, against the 
walls of which were hat-racks, an umbrella re- 
ceptacle, and in a corner a neat stand with a 
silken spread. “If first impressions are significant, 
this house ought to suit you, my dear. Neat as 
wax, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, indeed! and only see the rose vines climb- 
ing about this porch and out over the fence. I verily 

23 



THE WAYLANDS’ new HOME 25 

believe there’s a hundred roses in sight. One could 
hardly realize this was New Year’s Day.” 

“And that the snow was whirling before the keen 
wind across the common opposite our house back 
east,” chimed in Rex. Mrs. Wayland said nothing, 
but at the mention of their old home a shadow 
crossed her face. It had been their home for many 
years and a very happy one too. There Rex had 
been born ; there his little sister had come to stay 
but a few short years. With that look of sadness on 
the mother’s face came tears, but even as the sun had 
just chased the storm clouds, so now a pleasant 
smile shone through the moist eyes, as the Colonel 
opened a door to the left and drew her into a pretty 
little parlor, neatly furnished and with a grate 
beneath the mantel. In this grate were wood and 
shavings, and Rex, who dearly loved an open fire, 
darted forward, applied a match and flames went 
roaring up the chimney. “I’m at home!” he sang 
out as he threw himself into a chair. “You may 
explore. I’ll wait here.” 

“Bless the boy! How he does make the best of 
everything,” remarked his mother as she patted his 
cheek. 

“That’s the way, mother, isn’t it?” he shouted as 
he caught her hand, sprang to his feet, and, with his 
arm about her waist, waltzed her through the open 
door. Their inspection of the house pleased the 
Waylands very much, and made them feel quite at 
home, for it contained everything desirable. The 
dining-room, kitchen and pantry were especially 
well furnished, and at the back of the house were a 


26 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


pretty lawn and a vegetable garden. Beyond these 
were sheds for wood and tools, comprising every- 
thing needful about such a place. The air was 
unusually clear again, and as they stood on the rear 
piazza they could see the magnificent Cascades push- 
ing up from among the fleeting clouds, their snow- 
covered sides sparkling in the rays of the sun. 

“What a mighty wall of snow, ice and rock! See 
it stretch along. It must be a hundred miles from 
that grand old Rainier at the south to that tall 
snow-covered mountain at the north. What moun- 
tain is that, father?” 

“Mount Baker, Rex. Go round in front of the 
house and see if the Olympics show up from here. ’ ’ 
Rex did so and a shout attracted his father and 
mother to the spot, where, with him, they enjoyed the 
weirdly rugged landscape from which the clouds were 
slowly lifting. 

“There you see the most wonderful promontory 
in the world ; a region one hundred by one hundred 
and fifty miles without a human inhabitant, white 
or red, except along its coasts. It is almost sur- 
rounded by water, and has never been explored. 
But I must go to the nearest market and order 
something for dinner.” 

“For lunch you mean,” drawled a voice just over 
the fence, behind the rose bushes. “You must be 
from the east, ’ ’ continued the voice, and its owner, 
a big, good-natured looking man, in overalls and hip 
boots, came forward and leaned over their gate. “We 
hev breakfast, lunch at noon and dinner at night 
out here. Now ain’t thar somethin’ I kin dofer ye or 


THE WAYLANDS’ NEW HOME 


27 


sell ye? Tim! Oh, Tim! Trot the kyuse ’long up 
here, till I sell this gentleman some vegetables or fish. 
Here ye air, sir. Nice fresh spuds — taters they call 
’em out east — celery, onyuns, caroots, squash, 
reddishes, turnups, beets — anything you want. I 
come to yer door every Tuesday, Thursday an’ Sat- 
urday. I allers pack every kind o’ fresh fish. Fetch 
’em to ye a-ki ekin’, too. No stale fish in my pack- 
Then I kin haul yer coal or wood — anythin’ ye want. 
How air ye off fer soft coal, er kindlin’, er bark, er 
hard wood fer yer grate ? Got any baggige? I 
dravr — ” 

“Everything but your breath,’’ laughed the 
Colonel. “My friend, excuse me, but we’ve just 
come and don’t know what we do want yet. Is 
everybody out here as enterprising as you are?’’ 

“Jest come? Don’t know what ye want? Well! 
Rustle round an’ find out. Lucky I struck ye first. 
Why, ’fore ye’ve ben here a half-hour, some o’ them 
darned Swedes ’ll be ’round hittin’ ye fer a ‘yob. ’ 
Ye kin alius tell a Swede. They got big white eyes, 
an’ they can’t pernounce ‘j’ ter save their scalp. Ye 
jest better deal with a white man. I’m honest, I 
be, an’ — ’’ 

“So be’s I yonest. I sale yo’ goot feesh en spuds 
en carroots en cabbygees. Yaas, I more yonest dan 
dis faeller. I do yo’ yob great lot less moanee. 
What yo’ want doan, sir? I do yo’ yob. I work 
cheep. Veree cheep,’’ and in ahead of the stranger, 
who turned away in evident disgust, stepped a big 
Swede, his eagerness ludicrous to the Way lands, 
who were unused to this style of enterprise. 


28 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


“I guess I won’t have anything to-day,” laughed 
the Colonel. “When I want anything, I’ll come 
round and hunt you fellows up.” 

“All right, sor. You hunt me up. I veree yonest. 
I more yonest dan dot faeller. I do yo’ yob for less 
moanee. Yo save mooch as four bit on me." Here 
he stood and stared at them, occasionally exclaiming, 
“Yaas!” until they went in, shutting the door in his 
face. 

And thus life began for the Waylands in their 
new home. The weather, the greater portion of the 
time, was so rainy that one could not venture out 
without an umbrella or storm clothes, but almost 
every day came a period of sunlight that was charm- 
ing. In March, these days became more frequent, 
and with May came the finest weather they had 
ever known. The air was so clear that the far-away 
mountains looked very near, and the mountain 
torrents, fifty miles distant, flashed like mirrors in 
the sunlight. The grass was everywhere taking on 
a newer and richer shade of green ; the roses and 
other hardy flowers which had bloomed all the 
winter, seemed bound to bloom still more pro- 
fusely ; humming - birds darted here, there and 
everywhere ; the great bay and the lakes to the east 
looked all day like molten metal, and on no day did 
fresh, reviving breezes fail to sweep across from the 
snow-capped mountains. As the Waylands declared, 
they had found a country where it was never hot nor 
even cold, and where sudden extremes were un- 
known. The Colonel enjoyed his travels about the 
sound region, where his duties as insurance-adjuster 


THE WAYLANDS' NEW HOME 


2 9 


called him. Rex liked his school, and Mrs. Wayland 
the society of the ladies who called on her. All the 
family liked the church they attended and its min- 
ister, and it seemed as if the lengthening days 
brought only enjoyment. Thus passed the first 
summer and the succeeding winter. In fact, the 
fall stretched so far into winter that it almost 
touched the spring that soon came. 


CHAPTER IV 


SPORTS ON PUGET SOUND WICKED BUTCHERY OF 

SALMON 

Rex will never forget that first summer on Puget 
Sound. There had been beautiful days during the 
winter, and he had greatly enjoyed sundry trips to 
the beach and one or two excursions up the sound 
with his father. So much did he love the salt air 
and the wild play of the waves, he even enjoyed the 
storms, but when the spring and summer came, 
then his joy was unadulterated, and greater than he 
had ever experienced before. There were days of 
perfect sunshine, when the few clouds floated lazily 
along, half-way up the lofty mountains, here and 
there turning like stray sheep from the main herd and 
scudding up some narrow valley ; other days when the 
soft breezes swept steadily across the wide waters 
laden with spicy odors of fir, balsam and cedar, or 
with the seductively soothing scent of the wild- 
flowers, which were blooming everywhere. And 
of these wild-flowers what an abundance ! In the 
early spring the laurel showed its wonderful great 
pink blossoms on every mountain side. Later the 
more brilliant wild rhododendron unfolded its wealth 
of color and fragrance. Every berry-bush, and 
there were many varieties, seemed to produce a 
fragrant blossom. Then there were the brakes and 
ferns. These had mainly thrived right through the 
30 


SPORTS ON PUGET SOUND 


3i 


mild winter, and now added another foot or two to 
their enormous stature, already five or six times 
taller than any east of the Cascades. 

Rex had never in his life caught a fish that weighed 
much more than a pound, yet he was an enthusiastic 
and expert fisherman, and when he bore home from 
Elliott Bay his first twenty-pound salmon, which he 
had gaffed only after a long, hard fight, he was the 
proudest lad in the state of Washington. 

“Only see, mother! He’s nearly as long as I am 
— thirty-nine inches — and he was all I wanted to 
carry home. See his beautiful silver sides ! Isn ’t he 
a beauty? Why, they were leaping all round me 
down there off Four Mile Rock this afternoon, and 
I saw an Italian gang make one haul of not less 
than twelve thousand pounds. ’ ’ 

“Oh, my boy! my boy! You must be more 
careful in your statements. The idea! You mean 
twelve hundred pounds, and even that’s a big story. ” 

“I tell you, mother, I know what I’m talking 
about, and it’s no exaggeration when I say they 
drew a seine with twelve thousand pounds in it. 
I’m told that they sometimes take twenty thousand 
pounds. It was in this way: I had just landed this 
fellow and was sitting in the boat admiring him, 
when I noticed the Italians were excited. The big 
fellow with the longest and blackest mustache, who 
stands up in the front of the head boat, as dignified 
as the Doge of Venice during the ceremony of 
wedding the Adriatic, lost his dignity enough to 
unfold his arms and point ahead, at the same time 
speaking rapidly to his crew of ten. Then you 



SPORTS ON PUGET SOUND 


33 


ought to have seen those fellows bend to those long 
sweeps, like the galley slaves Mr. Wallace describes 
in Ben Hur. The big head boat began to move 
rapidly through the water, and the scow laden with 
nets and things followed unwillingly, like the old 
Swede’s cow led by a rope. Suddenly Italiano 
Capitano Mustachio pointed again and this time the 
rowers bent fairly double, for each over his shoulder 
saw what the captain and I had seen — a back fin 
here and there breaking through the water, while a 
shadow, wide-spread and apparently almost black, 
seemed in possession of the water underneath; all 
the surrounding water looked light green and clear 
as the ocean water looks out here, but under 
those black back fins it was opaque. The boat and 
scow had now reached the school or were close to it, 
when three of the crew stopped rowing and sprang 
to that great heap of net. How they did pay it 
out, the cork buoys making a wide and slowly closing 
circle about the school, which moved slowly along ! 
Finally the circle was complete and the rowers 
shipped their oars and began to haul in on certain 
ropes as if for dear life. The circle of buoys grew 
smaller and the more active fish began darting 
about. A big fellow, a regular old whale, came up 
six or eight feet into the air and shot fifteen feet 
along the water, landing just inside the line of corks. 
If he’d been ten feet nearer the line, he’d made it, 
but one of the Italians put a gaff into him and then 
the fight began. That fish would weigh all of fifty 
pounds, and he was limber as an eel. The gaff held 
and soon the Italian, a powerful fellow, tossed him 


34 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


into the scow. By this time the boats had been 
brought together, while the circle of buoys had 
decreased to the size of this house. Then the gaffing 
began. The gaff for close work is a sharp' steel 
blade, about six inches long, fastened to a wooden 
handle of the same length. From this runs a strap 
around the wrist of the gaffer. He reaches over — 
‘chuck!’ goes the gaff, and with a jerk he 
throws a fifteen or twenty pound salmon into the 
scow. Before that has struck, another is after it, 
and thus they follow, about one every two seconds. 
As there are four or five men at the gaffs, you can 
believe it don’t take long to put in a ton of salmon. 
I don’t think those fellows were over fifteen minutes 
putting in one thousand five hundred fish, and as at 
a low estimate tho.se fish would average eight pounds 
each, you can readily figure out twelve thousand 
pounds for the catch. While the gaffers were work- 
ing, three men hauled at the seine, another manned 
the blood pump in the scow, and others threw back 
the fish. I tell you I was excited. I wish the people 
back east could see such a sight as that.” 

“It can’t be very pleasant even to a sportsman, 
Rex. How long are fish going to last if taken in 
that way?” 

“I’m sure I don’t know, mother. There are proba- 
bly fifty crews in the sound to-day, and every 
rancher, boy and Siwash, along shore is out after 
salmon, just as they have been and will be for a 
season of three months. Talk about butchery — 
Armour’s pig-sticking establishment isn’t a com- 
parison. From what I can hear, this Sound and the 


SPORTS ON PUGET SOUND 


35 


Frazer and Columbia rivers must furnish millions of 
pounds annually. Down on the Columbia, they have 
big stern-wheel boats anchored where the current 
will revolve the wheel. The salmon run up on the 
wheel and are thrown into the boat. It is claimed 
that some of these boats get twenty thousand 
pounds in a few hours, and as high as fifty tons a 
day.” 

“Well, it’s a shame! Your father can tell you 
how, when he was in the regular army, they used to 
kill buffalo by thousands, just for sport, or at most 
for their tongues and hides; but now there is not a 
buffalo to be found anj^where except in captivity. 
The sin of those cruel butchers is visited on sub- 
sequent generations.” 

“Why, mother, you take the same view of it an 
old gentleman did down along shore. I was trudg- 
ing along, that fish over my shoulder, proud as a 
king, when I met him. He stopped. ‘Wall, young 
man! you be a sportsman,’ says he; ‘you caught 
that feller by fa’r an’ squar’ means. I was a-settin’ 
out on the coal bunkers a-fishin’ fer rock cod, an’ I 
saw ye. Ye landed him like an old hand, an’ ye 
aimed him; but them Dagoes’ (here he made a 
face) ‘an’ the fellers employin’ of ’em, they orter 
be shet off. See ’em go now. They’ve histed a 
coat on a oar, a tug has gone out, and they’re bound 
fer the cannery with not less’n ten ton o’ beautiful 
fish, the third load to-day. There’s a dozen crews 
right here in sight. There’s more all over the sound. 
Who’s a-makin’ money outen this waste? Is the 
laborin’ man a-gittin’ rich? No; it’s these blarsted 


36 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

canneries. Some on ’em clean up a half-a-million 
dollars in a successful season. My lad, I’ve seen 
the day when sammun an’ other fish was even 
thicker ’n they be now, an’ ’fore you’re as old as I 
am you’ll see the day there won’t be skurcely any. 
I’ve heerd my grandfather say, near fifty year ago, 
that when he was a boy, an’ that couldn’t a ben 
more’n sixty year afore, sammun was so thick on 
the coast o' Maine and Massachusetts as to be a 
staple o’ food. In fact, the old state laws o’ those 
states hed a pervision to the effect, thet scholars in 
boardin’ schools shouldn’t be asked to eat sammun 
more’n twict a week. Where be them sammun 
now? They’s a few o’ what they call land-locked in 
the back streams, but sammun, like the dodo, is 
extinct, so fur as that part o’ the world is concerned, 
an’ so ’twill be here, if this state don’t pass a law 
doin’ away with them infarnal sanes!” 

“That old man is right, Rex, and if he isn’t a 
sportsman, he has the instincts of one.” 


CHAPTER V 


ICHABOD BENJAMIN FRANKLIN ESTUS A TRUE SPORTSMAN 

Rex soon learned that his mother’s opinion of the 
old man was correct, for if ever there was an all- 
round sportsman, it was Uncle Festus. 

“My real name is Ichabod Benjamin Franklin 
Estus,” the old man was wont to say in an explana- 
tory way, “but when I kim out here, along arter the 
war, T brung along a hair trunk, on top o’ which in 
big brass letters was ‘I. B. F. ESTUS.’ When I 
landed, ole man Yesler was down at the wharf an’ 
heerd one o’ the fellers ask me my name. ‘Why, 
there ain’t any use o’ askin’,’ sez he. ‘Bein’ a man 
o’ few words, he’s put it on his trunk so’t all kin 
read — I be Festus. Then he shook my han’ an’ 
interduced me to ole Chief Seattle, who stood back 
o’ him, as Mr. Festus. I was purty young thirty 
year ago, but soon they got to callin’ me Uncle, an’ 
now, as everybody, from Siwash -to Governor 
McGraw, calls me Uncle Festus, you may as well. 
Wanter go fishin’ ’long o’ me some day?’’ 

Of course Rex wanted to go. In September, he 
and the old man bought a “grub stake,” made up 
packs and tramped away up into the Cascades, where 
they killed any quantity of grouse, partridge, quail, 
three deer, and got a shot at a bear, which they 
didn’t get. The old man did not seem to care so 
much about losing the bear as he did for “woundin’ 

37 


38 


REX WAYLAND'S FORTUNE 


one o’ God’s critters an’ leavin’ it to wander roun’ 
an’ suffer.” He was very tender-hearted and 
always put fish, fowl or game of any kind “out o’ 
its mizzery” as soon as he could. He would not 
catch more fish nor kill more game than he could 
eat or sell, and was constantly lamenting the waste 
all about him. Christmas day of 1894, a Swede 
named Ole Oleson shot down twenty-one elk and 
five deer, which he chased through the deep snow 
over near the Ducquebush River in the Olympic 
mountains, and was chased out of the country by 
the irate settlers. This news rendered the old man 
almost sick, and while usually very mild, he declared, 
“That there durned Swede orter a ben lynched, jest 
fer the purtection er the game God hez gin us.” 

Uncle Festus, from long practice, was very expert 
in fishing and hunting ; also in all the arts which go 
to make up the successful fisherman and huntsman. 
He could not make as good a canoe as a Si wash 
could, for no white man can, nor could he make 
many other things these people make, but he could 
build a boat, web a net, whittle out, wind and joint 
a fishing-rod, put up a pack, cook, clean fish or dress 
meat, tan hides, mould bullets, reload cartridges, 
handle a cayuse or pack-horse, pick a trail, manage 
a sail-boat, build a cabin, split “shakes,” or do what- 
ever else was needed in a country where a man may 
become a sportsman of wide experience. He was 
an expert logger, and could have earned good 
money at this calling, but as he expressed it, he 
enjoyed himself best “a-putterin’ round,” and so he 
did “putter” most of his time. He drew a pension 





40 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


from the government, which bought his tobacco and 
“grub, ” and sold enough fish and game to keep 
himself in clothes and spending money, with some- 
thing over. His shanty down on the beach opposite 
North Seattle was like many others there — comforta- 
ble in that climate, although in a colder one it would 
not have sufficed. It was neat as wax, even if it 
did smell of dog-fish oil, bear’s greese and hides, 
and many a good meal did Rex and other young 
people eat there. The old man had one peculiar 
fad, which rendered him very conspicuous. He was 
a great admirer of the many beautiful crystals to be 
found on the beach about the sound and was con- 
stantly collecting them. Some few of the most 
gaudily colored he had, with patient labor, ground 
down and polished, and these he had mounted in 
gold at the end of short gold chains, which chains 
were in turn gathered in a bunch and fastened to a 
heavy gold watch chain, which he wore only on state 
occasions. The effect was somewhat novel, for no 
other ornament exactly like this had ever been seen 
in Seattle nor yet in the South Sea islands. Uncle 
Festus liked it, “ ’cause ’twas odd.’’ Certainly no 
better reason could have been furnished, for it was 
not a thing of beauty. However, it was one of the 
old man’s most cherished treasures, and was worn 
on every dress occasion. 

Among other accomplishments of Uncle Festus 
was the Chinook jargon, which he talked with the 
genuine guttural gurgle of a native. It must be 
understood that this jargon, which for more than a 
hundred years has been in use by all the three hun- 


ICHABOD BENJAMIN FRANKLIN ESTUS 4* 

dred tribes of Indians from Alaska south to the 
Columbia, is like many others of the cruder lan- 
guages or jargons, one of few characters. Indeed, 
the Chinook has, with all its analogous dialects, 
exactly four hundred and eighty characters, and 
were it not for sundry gestures, inflections and 
emphases, could scarcely suffice to express the lim- 
ited ideas of the Siwash. Considering its brevity, 
however, the range of expression is something 
remarkable, and to watch Uncle Festus and hear 
him, as with hands, head and tongue he carried on 
a bit of gossip with some bow-legged, broad- 
mouthed, flat-nosed wanderer along shore, one would 
have thought him a past master and worthy of hold- 
ing down a seat of instruction in some college where 
the Chinook was a part of the curriculum. 

“It’s a purty handy trick,” was Uncle Festus 
comment when Rex begged him to teach him ; but 
he made no other answer. Rex noticed, however, 
that on all their numerous trips thereafter, the old 
man always took pains to give the Chinook name or 
meaning for all they saw, used, or heard. For 
instance, “Pull up the canim a leetle thar, boy? The 
tide’s risin, ’’ by which Rex would know that 
“canim’’ was Chinook for boat or canoe. Again, 
“Were jest havin’ skookum luck to-day,’’ and there- 
after Rex knew that “skookum’’ was Chinook for 
good, prime, excellent, or their synonyms. In this 
way he soon learned that “cultus” was bad, or as 
Uncle Festus put it, no good; that “hyak’’ meant 
hurry up; “hyas, ’’ great or large; “ehkanam,” a 
story ;' “calipun, ” a rifle; “capo,’’ a coat; “chitlo,” 


42 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


an oyster; “clietwoot,” a black bear; “klietan,”an 
arrow or bullet; “knitan,” a horse; “snass,” rain; 
“kull-snass,” hail; “t’kope-snass, ” snow, etc., etc. 
It took but a few weeks of this training to give Rex 
a tolerable knowledge of the language, and the old 
man then began to put easy phrases as questions. 
If Rex answered incorrectly, he carefully explained 
every word, impressing the lesson by homely but 
apt illustration. The old man was evidently greatly 
pleased with the progress of his pupil in all the arts 
he had taught him, and well he might be, for Rex 
was a bright boy, and took great interest in anything 
he attempted. He had expanded wonderfully, both 
in a physical and mental way, since coming to the 
Sound country, and found it easier than ever before 
to accomplish tasks. It will be found that the more 
healthy and well - trained physically a person 
becomes, the more active the powers of comprehen- 
sion will grow. Overtraining, of course, is as bad 
as none at all; in this, as in everything else, good 
judgment should always rule, though in the case of 
a strong, healthy boy of sixteen, there is little 
danger of overdoing in a physical way, especially 
when six or eight hours of five days per week are 
put into study, as was the case with Rex. His 
studies he never neglected, and so well had he 
progressed that he hoped to enter the new State Uni- 
versity, in the northeast suburbs of Seattle, as soon 
as he was eighteen years of age. His numerous 
trips with Uncle Festus had been made Saturdays 
or during vacations, and not an hour had he taken 
from school. In fact, had he proposed neglecting 


ICHABOD BENJAMIN FRANKLIN ESTUS 43 

school, he would have met with a stern reprimand 
from Uncle Festus, so much did the old man respect 
learning. “It’s all well enough to larn all ye kin 
’bout animals an’ fish, their habits an’ how to trap 
’em, but don’t neglect yer ’rithmetic, yer grammer- 
atics, jogerfy an’ sich. No, boy; don’t neglect yer 
schoolin’, fer ye kin fish an’ hunt when ye air too old 
to go to school. Fill up thet thar magerzine o’ 
yourn with cattridges o’ lamin’ while yer young. 
Ye can’t ketch on after yer whiskers git gray.” 

Thus admonished, Rex studied hard. It seemed 
a wonder he did not mix his Greek and Latin with 
his Chinook, but he never did, and one day, late in 
the fall of ’94, after a lengthy conversation with 
Uncle Festus in Chinook, at which time Rex had 
deported himself to the old man’s great satisfaction, 
the latter said: “Wall, I declar’ for it, you’ve picked 
up thet jargon quicker ’n I did, by a long shot. I 
didn’t do much else fer a time neither. You’re a 
reg’lar young Siwash. Did ye know it? I think I’ll 
hev ter take ye down ter see an Injun gal o’ mine. 
How’d you like to make up to a Siwash princess?” 

“Is she good-looking, Uncle?” 

“Hansum as a picter — of her,” replied the old 
man, with a twinkle in his eye. “Did ye ever see 
the Princess Angyline?” 

“What! That awful-looking little old woman who 
has a shanty down below Bell Town?” 

“She’s the charmer,” rejoined the old man grimly. 

“No; I never saw her at close quarters; a view at 
a distance is enough for me. Why, she has the 
homeliest face I ever saw on a human being! I see 


44 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


her picture everywhere out here — in the store 
windows, on bric-a-brac, and once I saw it in a 
magazine out east.” 

“Oh, she’s a noted beauty, boy. People make fun 
o’ her looks, an’ I’ll allow she ain’t as hansum as 
your mother and some o’ the other ladies on Queen 
Anne Hill, but she’s good, an’ once ye know her, 
ye’ll respect her, even if she is a Siwash. I think 
you an’ I better call on her and chat with her a leetle 
while to-morrer arternoon; kin ye git away to- 
morrer?” 

“Oh, yes ; it’s Saturday, and I would really like to 
pay my respects to the Princess. ’ ’ 

“Wall, come ’long down by my shack, then. Ye 
needn’t put on yer best does, even if ye air goin’ to 
call on a princess. There’s nothin’ stuck-up about 
Angyline. ” 


CHAPTER VI 


THE PRINCESS ANGELINE RECEIVES GUESTS 

The Princess Angeline has been for the past 
twenty-five years the most noted Indian woman in 
the United States, or Canada. And why? Was she 
a beauty? Was she of brilliant intellect or strong 
mind? Was she even a ruler over many Indians? 

“No” answers all these questions. So far as 
features were concerned, hers was the most gro- 
tesque phiz ever seen on paper ; and in the north- 
west it is seen everywhere. No album or collection 
of pictures, no cabinet of curios is complete without 
a picture of Angeline; but not because of her 
beauty. No; Angeline was probably the possessor 
of the homeliest face ever grown on the front side of 
a human head. In figure, she was far from stately 
or graceful, even if she was a princess royal of the 
Siwash blood and of the dynasty of Seattle. She 
was, when in her prime, about fifty inches in height, 
but during the last fifteen years of her life, seemed 
to shrink a little more each year, like a piece of 
buckskin that is first wet and then dried, just as 
Angeline was by the alternate wet and dry seasons 
of her native Sound. The shape of her figure was 
never known, for her clothes never fitted. They 
hung loosely from her stooped shoulders, and for 
convenience were tied round near the hips, with a 
string. Her shoes were of the coarsest description, 

45 


46 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


and she had a habit of untying them, to rest her 
feet, while making one of her numerous calls. As 
to intellect, if Angeline had any, few people knew 
of it, for she rarely deigned to air even her scant 
knowledge of the English or Boston “langlang” or 
language. During the last twenty years of her life, 
she was generally looked upon as an imbecile, and 
on account of her great age was childish. However, 
Angeline was never a fool, and those who under- 
stood Chinook and talked with her, or in her native 
language, for she was pure Siwash (Duwamish), will 
testify that she was in many ways remarkable. Like 
many another old person, her recollection of events 
of fifty years or more ago, was perfect, and while 
she was an Indian woman and knew nothing of 
the outside world of the early portion of the present 
century, she knew much of the Indian history of 
Puget Sound, and it is a pity her knowledge was 
never recorded, where it might have been of use to 
future generations. 

On account of the general reverence and respect 
for her kingly father, Chief Sealth or Seattle, whom 
many residents of the northwest remember, and 
that with high regard, and also on account of her 
own good qualities, Angeline was a favorite with all 
Seattle and vicinity. No store or business place was 
too grand to refuse her a seat, if she chose to call ; 
and had she cared to cultivate English, she might 
daily have held conversation with the most stylish 
ladies of the city. As it was, she generally said no 
more than “klahowya” (How are you), or “kla- 
howya six” (Good-morning, sir), unless she happened 




REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


to meet with some master or mistress of Chinook. 
Then she would brighten up and chatter like a 
monkey. Especially did she value old friends and 
love to chat with them. It was for this reason that 
Rex could not have chosen a better mediator than 
Uncle Festus for presentation to this royal dame. 

The afternoon chosen for the call was windy and 
disagreeable, and the Princess was basking in. the 
warmth of a fire of the driftwood, with which her 
foster-son kept her supplied, when they entered the 
rude cabin down near the water front. As Angeline 
saw the good-natured face of Uncle Festus, she 
brightened up, and her “klahowya” was in every 
sense a welcome. The presentation of Rex was a 
simple ceremony, and coming under such patronage 
he was well received. Especially so when he began 
to chat with his hostess in very guttural Chinook. 
He had been given a hint by Uncle Festus, and took 
pains to inform her that he had learned Chinook 
jargon for the purpose of being able to talk with 
her. This information and a gift of fruit put 
Angeline in high feather, and she was as gracious 
as she knew how to be. It must have been a happy 
evening to the old woman, probably one of the most 
enjoyable of her later life, for here was her old 
friend of thirty years on the one hand, and on the 
other a Boston lad who called her “Kwal’k” (Aunty), 
and who “kum-tux Chinook” (understood Chinook). 
They talked of the “kultus smoke” (bad weather), 
and the Princess declared she had been “hyas 
kwass” (very much frightened) at the beating of 
the waves and the roaring of the winds the night 


PRINCESS ANGELINE RECEIVES GUESTS 49 

before. Gradually they drifted to other topics, and 
among them, Chief Sealth or Seattle, the illustrious 
sire of their hostess. Uncle Festus remembered the 
old chief very well, and truly admired him for his 
sterling qualities, for he was one of the greatest 
Indians that ever lived. His statesmanship, by 
means of which he was able to consolidate the six 
tribes, and make himself their ruler, his respect for 
good white men, his intercourse through representa- 
tives with the “hy as tyee” (great father, or 
president) at Washington City, his hatred of 
heathenish sacrifices and other bad practices, his 
final death and grand funeral at “Old Man House*’ 
(Port Madison), fifteen miles across the Sound from 
Seattle, were all discussed that evening, and it is 
but truth to state that Rex had never been more 
interestingly entertained. 

About nine o’clock, however, the aged Princess 
began to grow very drowsy, and her callers, seeing 
she had become weary and might doze off in her 
chair, or for that matter retire to her royal couch 
before their very eyes, arose to take their departure. 
It is customary with the Siwash to allow guests to 
depart without invitation to call again, but the 
Princess hobbled to her door, bade them good-bye, 
and urged “Clapootchus Hintipso’’ and “Bebe Ack’’ 
(Long Beard and her Dear Nephew) to come often. 

“I never knowed you was quite such a ladies’ 
man,’’ remarked Uncle Festus as they made their 
way along the beach in the darkness toward North 
Seattle. “Most fellers lookin’ at us, in ordinary, 
everyday does, wouldn’t think we’d jest had an 


5 ° 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


audience with a princess. Why didn’t ye wear yer 
claw-hammer anyway this evenin’? I s’ posed you 
Queen Anne sassiety men put on more style.” 

“Nevertheless I pleased the Princess, Uncle Fes- 
tus. Did you hear her call me ‘Bebe Ack,’ her 
dear nephew? I didn’t hear her address you by any 
such loving title.” 

“No; she an’ I air old ‘tillacums’ (loving friends), 
but purty keerful how we show our affection ’fore 
folks. But, say! I’m reel glad she took to you so. 
I hev an’ objic’ in interdoocin’ you. If we kin git 
her a-goin’ some night, when she feels jest right, 
she’ll tell you somethin’ she tole me once; an’ if she 
does, yer eyes’ll stick out some, I tell ye!” 

“What is it, Uncle? Tell me now.” 

“No-o! Don’t think I will,” said the old man, 
slowly. “I will say, though, it’s a secret o’ them 
there mountains. Look off to the west, boy, at the 
Olympics, an’ see ’em rearin’ up there all white an’ 
cold as the toom of a “hy as tyee” long dead. The 
secrets o’ them great white mountains, God only 
knows, fer though they’re not fifty mile away, as 
the eagle flies, no man, white ner red, hes ever 
explored ’em. They’ve ben explored at, but not 
explored. The secret I’ve got an inklin’ of concerns 
them, an’ I’d like to know the truth on it. Good- 
night! Trot ’long home now,” and he entered his 
cabin door, leaving Rex outside, staring at the snow- 
covered crags and peaks which in the flood of 
moonlight now freshly showered across from the 
Cascades, looked like vast icebergs rising out of the 
waters of the Sound. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE PRINCESS SEES A VISION, AND IS GREATLY SHOCKED 

It was nearly a month before Rex could again 
persuade Uncle Festus to call upon Angeline, and 
he was himself kept from her cabin by the old man’s 
stern injunction: “Let the old girl alone. Go to her 
door if ye want to ; leave some fruit er some change 
maybe, a two-bit piece now an’ then is mighty 
acceptable — but don’t ye go to pumpin’ her, for if 
ye do — she’s a Si wash — she’ll pull her head into her 
shell an’ ye won’t git her confidence agin fer a year. 
The best way to find anything out of a Siwash is to 
git ’em a-tellin’ yarns — to boastin’ — an’ then they’ll 
spit out somethin’ thet all the tortures imaginable 
couldn’t a-made ’em gin up. Keep good friends with 
yer aunty when ye meet her in the street, fire some 
Chinook at her, in a off-hand way, but don’t go to 
pryin’ into her family affairs. I’ve got my reasons, 
as you’ll see.” 

Rex promised to use great caution, and patiently 
awaited Uncle Festus’ motion. He returned from 
school one evening to find Uncle Festus at the gate 
awaiting him. 

“Got any engagement fer this evenin’?” enquired 
the old man. 

“Not that I know of. Why?’’ 

“I want ye. Come down to my shack about six 
o’clock.’’ Rex was on hand at the time agreed, and 

51 


52 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

found the old man sitting meditatively over a bottle. 

“Say, boyee! ef I didn’t consider it a darned 
mean trick, I’d take some o’ thet stuff down an’ 
dope the Princess. It’s whiskey — that stuff is, an’ 
while it’s good of its kind an’ useful in its place, I 
don’t think much on it. I never drunk any to 
speak on, an’ I’ll be jiggered if I’ll give it to that 
ole Siwash. It’d loosen her tongue, and she’d tell 
all she know’d mebbe, but I won’t do it. No, sir! 
We’ll put it up in thet there cubbard where it’s set 
fer the last ten year,’’ and up it went. “Ye see, 
Angeline never was no hand fer drink, but some- 
times she takes a leetle to ease her of her rumatiz, 
an’ when she does, she’s chattery as thunder. She’s 
ben purty well stirred up to-day. That young artist 
feller, Ralph Coombs, ole Sam Coombs’ boy, has all 
unknown to most on us ben paintin’ a picter of old 
Sealth. It’s no ideal picter, but a copy of a photy- 
graph old man Denny got of Sealth, years and years 
ago. Ye see there ain’t any other original picter. 
The ole chief, much as he liked the white men, an’ 
good Catholic as he was, had lots of Injun supersti- 
tion in him. He hed a holy horror of havin’ his 
picter took, though old man Denny an’ all of us 
was a-continually tryin’ to get him to hev one took. 
He alius refused, fer the reason, as his interpreter 
said, he was ’fraid we’d steal his spirit outen his 
body an’ he’d hev no spirit to be resurrected when 
the Hy as Tyee got ready to raise folks. One day he 
was over here — he was livin’ at Old Man House 
then — and after he’d concluded business, Denny an’ 
some o’ the rest got him to pledge ’em in a glass 




54 


REX WAYJ^AND’S FORTUNE 


o’ rum. The ole feller liked it — we could see that 
— and as he never drunk much, it was quick about 
affectin’ him. Wall, we all purtended to be jealous, 
an’ we all got him to pledge us — there was seven on 
us, I think — an’ we got seven drinks inter his ole 
hide. Then he wanted to go down to his canim an’ 
start fer home, but on some excuse or ruther we got 
him up inter the only dugerrytype shop there was 
in the town. There he stood, stubbo’n an’ bracin’, 
his ole big Hudson’s Bay blanket wrapped ’round 
him, as dignified as ye please, for the drunker he got 
the more dignified he was. While he was talkin’ or 
listenin’ to our talk which was translated to him by 
his interpreter — fer if he did know Chinook or 
Boston talk, he wouldn’t never let on he knew any- 
thin’ but pure Duwamish — the artist jest cut loose 
his machine on him an’ we had a picter. Wall, ole 
man Denny has alius preserved thet picter. From 
thet, young Ralph Coombs has made a big paintin’ 
in oil fer the Chamber of Commerce, an’ to-day his 
father Sam, me, an’ several more ole timers, took 
Angeline in to pass judgment on it. The ole chief’s 
ben dead nigh onto thirty year; he died in June o’ 
’66 I think, an’ of course Angeline hain’t never hed 
any picter of him, as white folks hev o’ their people. 
We thought we’d see if she remembered him. First 
along, she didn’t want to go in, but we finally per- 
suaded of her an’ round a corner she walks right 
plum afore ole Seattle, a-standin’ up thar life-size, 
the ole gray Hudson’s Bay blanket with the blue 
border wrapped round him. She jumped, then 
looked fer a full minute, when her leetle ole dried-up 


THE PRINCESS SEES A VISION 


55 


face turned a yaller-white. Then the tears begin to 
run, an’ down on her knees she flopped, whinin’ 
like a she bear an’ takin’ on like all possessed.” 

“ ‘Thet’s a picter of yer father, Angeline, ’ says 
Coombs; ‘jest a picter. Thet’s all!’ ” 

“ ‘Utchidah ! Utchidah ! Nika Papa ! Hias 
klosh!’ (Wonderful ! Wonderful ! Great or good 
picture of my dear father!) 

“This she said over a dozen times, and every leetle 
while this arternoon she’s ben ’round to look at thet 
picter an’ cry. I think someun hez gin her a leetle 
rum, jest to quiet her, fer she acted like she was goin’ 
into hysterics. If she’s got any likker aboard, we’ll 
find her very stupid or very talkative to-night. Let’s 
hurry up an’ git down thar ’fore her bed-time. It’s 
lucky I hed you over to Port Madison to see what’s 
left o’ Old Man House an’ have a talk with ole Bill 
Deshaw the other day. You kin git her a-talkin’ on 
thet an’ if she wants to talk, wiry let her.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


WONDERFUL OLD MAN HOUSE SIWASH HISTORY, 

RELIGION AND SUPERSTITION 

Old Man House was probably the most remarkable 
Indian palace in the new world in its day, not even 
excepting the caves of the cliff-dwellers* in the south. 
Little trace of it now remains, but from “old Bill 
Deshaw,” a sub-Indian agent and trader at Port 
Madison, Rex and Uncle Festus had obtained a very 
good description and history of it, in substance as 
follows : 

Old Man House was built about 1750, by one of 
the six tribes afterward forming the Duwamish con- 
federation. It stood on the beach of Agate Pass- 
age, near what is now known as Port Madison, about 
sixteen miles northwest of Seattle. It was one 
immense building of logs and “shakes,” — boards or 
planks split from cedar; its dimensions somewhat in 
excess of one thousand by sixty feet. No other por- 
tion of the United States than Puget Sound could 
have furnished its timbers, for while California has 
groves of sequoia and redwood, some trees of which 
are larger, no state save Washington has forests 
averaging such a size, so near tide -water. 

Those who saw this house standing in a state of 
partial decay in 1859, say its front was upheld by 
posts from six to eight feet in diameter and twenty- 
five or thirty feet high. These were notched at the 

56 


WONDERFUL OLD MAN HOUSE 


57 


top, and from each notch, running back to the bluff 
some sixty or eighty feet, were timbers from five to 
seven feet in diameter. The rear ends of these were 
imbedded in the bluff. The sides and roof were of 
very wide “shakes, ” lapped and pinned fast. The 
finish of the interior was from time to time changed 
to suit the occupants, and a whole tribe or certain 
highly favored representatives of the six tribes lived 
in it at times. The roll call of this royal household 
was never less than seven hundred, and at times 
exceeded one thousand. It was this palace Sealth 
or Seattle took possession of after his successful con- 
solidation of the six tribes into the powerful Duwam- 
ish confederacy, and the palace was from that time 
known as the Tsu-suc-cub. Eight chiefs and their 
retinues occupied it. These chiefs were : Sealth or 
Seattle the Great; his aged father, Sealth the First, 
who, on acount of his relationship, ranked second; 
Chief Kitsap, whose great strength and prowess in 
battle made him third; Tsulucub fourth; Beck-kl- 
lus fifth ; Steachecum sixth ; Ocub seventh ; Lache- 
masub eighth. Seattle the Great, or Second, as he 
was sometimes called, was hy as tyee, or superior 
chief, and all the others were merely tyees, or tenas 
tyees — little, or lesser chiefs. There were three 
tribes to the south and east, who paid tribute to 
Sealth the Great and sent hostages to serve in his 
palace. These were elite tyees, or chiefs in slavery. 
The Old Man House tribe, before the confederacy, 
was the dominant tribe of all that section, and as 
such compelled all other tribes to send hostages for 
service. 





WONDERFUL OLD MAN HOUSE 


59 


As this story will show, Sealth or Seattle the First 
was one of these hostages, and it is highly probable 
that these serving men often became meat for the 
sacrificial fires which these heathen prior to 1850 
were more or less publicly offering to appease their 
Tamahnawis, or, as some authorities have it, their 
Klail Tamahnawis, or evil spirit. They never 
bothered themselves to appease the good spirit, for 
he, they reasoned, would never harm them, but the 
evil spirit was to be feared, and he was the fellow to 
keep on the right side of by frequent gifts and sacri- 
fices. This Klail Tamahnawis was looked upon as 
the Saghalic Tyee, or supreme being of all, showing 
that they believed the bad predominated; and one 
of the chief aids of this all-powerful evil spirit was 
the “Thunderbird, ” an immense animal partaking 
of the characteristics of the bird, fish and. dragon. 

This terror made its abode in the highest moun- 
tains, notably Mount Olympus, some seventy miles 
northwest of Seattle, and from this lofty eyrie he 
descended at times with great din and sulphurous 
fumes, to feed on whales, which he caught in the sea 
with his immense talons and bore away to his lair. 
If he was propitiated by sundry precious gifts and 
sacrifices, he was quite unlikely to sally forth, often 
sleeping in his den years at a time, but if such gifts 
were forgotten, he might come forth two or three 
times in a single season. 

Just what form of gift or sacrifice best pleased him 
none but the wise men knew, and as he was a finical 
and capricious sort of ogre, these wise men were 
often put to their wits’ end to select a bill of fare 


6o 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


sufficiently varied. It should be understood that 
whenever this ogre set forth on a whaling trip, dire 
disaster visited all the tribes of the Puget Sound 
region, for not only were all the fish, seal and other 
amphibious game frightened from these waters, but 
all the game of the forests was driven away. 

It is related that at one descent he literally killed 
off all the game on land between Mount Baker at the 
north and Mount Rainier at the south, and that for a 
lifetime thereafter, no Siwash could catch or kill a 
living thing on the Sound or any of its tributary 
waters, nor yet upon the land drained thereby. At 
another time still anterior to this epoch, he took up 
his abode in Rainier, while a rival spirit of equal 
dimensions took up his residence in Mount St. 
Helens, in northern Oregon near the mouth of the 
great Columbia. From these lofty eyries the rival 
Thunderbirds set forth to wage fierce battle in mid 
air, and death and devastation followed. Every living 
thing between these two mountains and all the way 
up the Sound to the straits of Antoine, now Juan de 
Fuca, perished. This fight lasted several days, and 
at one time centred about what is now Mount Baker, 
at the north end of the Sound. The unhappy Siwash 
strove to make their way out of the Sound and Col- 
umbia River region, but the breath of the awful 
combatants, the flames from their red hot shields, 
the smoke, dust and fire from their clashing weap- 
ons, all combined to make such a kultus-smoke (fog 
or bad weather), such flight was next to impossible. 
The straits, the only outlet from the Sound, literally 
boiled, and steam and sulphurous fumes obliterated 


WONDERFUL OLD MAN HOUSE 


61 


every form of animal and vegetable life. At the 
same time the waters of the Columbia were dammed 
by the shower of rocks that fell, and a great flood 
was the result. 

The icy waters from the snow-covered mountains 
swept down to boil against the huge dam of red-hot 
rocks and earth, and the steam and rise of fog was 
something so tremendous, confusing and terrifying 
as to shut off all exit in that direction. At last a 
Moses of his people, a brave, strong-hearted Siwash, 
led them south via the present Olympia flats to the 
coast near Gray’s Harbor, where the surviving mem- 
bers of the many tribes lived for a long period under 
his rule, to later scatter north, south and east and 
again people the Sound and its tributary territory. 
One region, however, the Olympic peninsula, that 
wonderfully mountainous promontory between the 
straits of Juan de Fuca on the north, the Pacific 
Ocean on the west, and Puget Sound on the east, 
they have ever since shunned. That is, they have 
never pushed settlements far into the interior of this 
rough and mysterious country, but have confined 
themselves to its shores and beaches, ready at any 
time to take to the water. 

They believe that while the fiercest combat raged 
in the vicinity of the Columbia, in Northern Oregon, 
the combatants did not retire to the nearest peaks, 
but that one of them was driven along to the far 
north, the other in hot pursuit; that the pursuer 
finally came back across the straits and flew to the 
brow of Mount Olympus, from which perch he sur- 
veyed the desolated country and awaited a return of 


62 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


any rival that might dare show himself ; that finally 
not seeing or hearing any, he ensconced himself in a 
deep pit or crater in a hidden pass between Olympus 
and Mount Constance, and there abides to this day. 

That he has never since come forth is owing to the 
fact that no rival Thunderbird, no Siwash and few if 
any white men have disturbed him ; also that he was 
so greatly propitiated about one hundred years ago 
by a magnificent gift, or potlatch, of gold and 
precious articles, that he became friendly to the 
Siwash of the Sound, and has not since descended 
on them or their territory. 

Those immense pointed rocks or needles, such a 
source of wonder to the tourist up over the Union 
Pacific thirty or forty miles east of Portland, are 
believed by the Siwash to be the arrow and spear 
heads of these mighty Thunderbirds. 

It is claimed that in this vicinity the battle raged 
fiercest, and that these needle-like rocks, many of 
which are one thousand feet high, are the arrows and 
spear-heads which shot against the shields of these 
mighty adversaries, dropped down to stick up in the 
ground. 

The explanation of all this tradition and actual 
Siwash belief is, that at some far distant period these 
great peaks were in active eruption ; that Mount St. 
Helens, Mount Rainier, Mount Olympus and Mount 
Baker were active at one and the same time; that 
the land was overhung with smoke and sulphurous 
fumes, and that the waters were boiled by the des- 
cent of great quantities of heated lava and ashes. 
Mount Baker has never been climbed, but it is 


WONDERFUL OLD MAN HOUSE 


63 


believed that it was once a volcano. Mount Rainier 
has been climbed, and yet steams. It was a volcano. 
Mount St. Helens was also a volcano. Little is 
known of Mount Ofympus. Its height even is 
variously given at from nine thousand to twelve 
thousand feet. It is so beset with difficulties and 
dangers that few people have ever cared to risk their 
lives in its vicinity. 

For fear of this Thunderbird and because fearful 
of meeting some of its victims — “stick Injuns” or 
Siwash ghosts — no real Siwash can be induced to go 
far back from the coast into this region. It is prob- 
able that this mountain was longest in eruption, and 
that about its brow longest hung the peculiar smoke 
which always precedes and follows such a phenom- 
enon, and seeing this at a great distance, the sur- 
vivors of that awful holocaust naturally imagined 
the (to them) awful Thunderbird had settled there. 
It is but reasonable to suppose that they looked on 
this almost inaccessible territory as holy ground, and 
have ever since avoided it, except at such times as 
expeditions were organized to bear gifts to the 
Thunderbird. 

Some tribes, notably the Old Man House tribe, 
were bolder in these incursions. Some, notably the 
Twana or Skokomish, were very timid, and can never 
be induced even to this day to go into the interior. 
This latter tribe worshipped symbols of the Thun- 
derbird, and laid gifts before these symbols, being 
idolaters pure and simple. This they do in secret to 
this day. They have a reservation of about six 
thousand acres at the mouth of the Skokomish River 


6 4 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


on Hood’s Canal, not far from the city of Olympia, 
and there the remnant of a once large tribe 
exists. They formerly occupied all the beach from 
Port Townsend to Olympia and the comparatively 
low lands south of and around Lake Cushman. 
They absorbed two other tribes, the Duklaylips and 
Tuilcenes, and for many generations kept up pub- 
licly, even as now secretly, their symbolic form of. 
worship. Images of the Thunderbird, some of them 
four or five feet in length and of horrible aspect, 
recently have been found in the woods of this region. 

Thus will the reader better understand the Siwash 
and his religion, which is a spiritual superstition of the 
most hideous description, calling at times for bloody 
deeds of sacrifice, although the Siwash, when not 
fired by this belief, was naturally jolly, harmless and 
inclined to make friends of the white race. It was 
the last of the royal house of Sealth or Seattle of the 
Duwamish dynasty that old Festus and young Rex 
were now about to visit. As the story unfolds, a 
better understanding of it will be gained by those 
who have most carefully read this chapter. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE PRINCESS IN A TRANCE A WEIRD POTLATCH OR 

FEAST SONG ASTONISHING REVELATIONS 

When our two friends reached the shack of Prin- 
cess Angeline, they were admitted by her grandson. 
Through an open door, in an adjoining room, the 
Princess could be seen in her ordinal street cos- 
tume — heavy shoes, an old skirt under which a 
flannel or blanket petticoat showed, and a heavy 
shawl or blanket about her shoulders and over her 
head. From under this, her grizzled locks pro- 
truded, and her poor old face looked unusually hag- 
gard. She was sitting Siwash or tailor fashion on 
a low bench, and, with eyes half-shut and glittering 
in the dim light, swayed herself slowly backward 
and forward, monotonously crooning in her own dia- 
lect, her manner suggestive of communion with 
spirits. No doubt the events of the day had consider- 
ably shocked the poor old creature, and her excite- 
ment, though deadened to a certain extent by the 
liquor some one had with the kindest intention given 
her, was not liable to soon pass away. 

Uncle Festus seemed unwilling to intrude, but 
Rex walked in and, with a cheery salutation, squat- 
ted down not far from her, extending his hand, 
in which was a bag of assorted fruits and confections. 
Without seeming to know what she was doing, 
Angeline took the parcel and set it near her. Then, 
65 


66 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


without salutation, she resumed her crooning. Rex 
grasped the situation, and taking the knotty old 
hand, inquired in Chinook: “Did Angeline see her 
father to-day?” 

The only reply was, “Utchidah! Utchidah! Nika 
Papa! Hias Klosh!” a free translation of which is, 
“Wonderful! Wonderful! A perfect picture of my 
dear father.” She repeated this many times, 
occasionally emitting a deep moan. Suddenly her 
expression of stupid sorrow changed to one of 
joyous elation, and in Chinook she began chant- 
ing praise of her ancestry, more particularly of lier 
father and grandfather. This chant, if translated 
into English, would lose even the grandeur intended 
by its authors. It was evidently a savage folk or 
feast song, used perhaps hundreds of times at 
the various family or tiibal potlatches or gift 
feasts. It recited how old Sealth or Seattle the 
First had come to the tribe of Old Man House, as 
did Joseph to the Pharaohs — a menial; how he had 
risen by his merit to become chief among the ser- 
vants of the royal household, and had thereby 
incurred the envy of his fellows from other tribes; 
how he had finally become an interpreter of the 
visions of the priests, or Tamahnawis men, and was 
in a fair way to supplant the greatest of them, when 
they conspired to send this formidable rival away. 
Thereat he had retired, and communing with the 
Tamahnawis or Thunderbird in the high mountains, 
had received a revelation to the effect that the 
Thunderbird was about to descend, but that a certain 
gift laid at his door would appease the impending 


THE PRINCESS UNWITTINGLY REVEALS A SECRET. 

67 



68 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


wrath. This gift Seattle soon secured. It was a 
pair of elk horns of a size incredible ; the tallest man 
of the tribe when standing between the branches with 
uplifted hand could scarcely touch the base or crotch 
of these horns. Seattle the First transported these 
with great care up into the lofty mountains, and 
with the aid of certain inferior slaves hung them up 
before the cavern or crater from which the Thun- 
derbird was expected to issue. The intent was that 
they should catch the eye of the ogre as he came forth, 
and he, being thereby appeased, would either re-enter 
or sail out across the wide waters to commit his 
depredations in some other portion of the earth. 
Having accomplished this, Seattle the First had re- 
turned in triumphant peace, and as no attacks from 
the Thunderbird followed, his wise forethought and 
daring greatly elevated him in the estimation of 
his masters and fellows. Active in war and fore- 
most in pursuit of game and fish, he invented many 
new ways of curing fish and game and also devised 
canims or canoes, as well as paddles, greatly superior 
to any before known. 

While chanting this triumphant episode in the 
career of her ancestor, the aged princess appar- 
ently renewed her youth. Her voice gathered in 
volume and intensity of utterance until it thrilled the 
two listeners. Suddenly she stopped, and pulling 
her shawl over her face, bent low before the fire. 
For full five minutes she sat thus and her visitors 
believed her asleep until, with a quick motion, 
she became partially erect again, and with eyes 
brighter than they had ever seen them, commenced 


THE PRINCESS IN A TRANCE 


69 


a series of passes with her crooked old hands. Some- 
times her motion was from right to left, with hands 
outstretched as far as she could reach. Again she 
shrank to one side, putting up her hands as if to pro- 
tect her head, while from between the withered lips 
came a sibilant, bird-like cry. No ventriloquist 
could have thrown voice or whistle with more star- 
tling effect; at times the notes, plaintive and piping 
as those of a newly-hatched fledgling, came from the 
farthest corner of the room, or from beneath the 
boards of the floor ; again from the rafters, and again 
from underneath the chair where Uncle Festus sat. 

Even as these notes quivered on the air, there came 
a whirring sound, clear and sharp, like the scream of 
an eagle descending on its prey ; and this changed to 
a louder and shriller note that threatened to pierce 
the ear-drums. This was followed by a suc- 
cession, of snarls, like those of an angry cat, 
and while these sounded in their ears, that far- 
away look came into the poor old eyes, the withered 
lips began to move and the chanting was re- 
sumed. 

While the other chant had been of triumph, this 
was of fear and apprehension. It recited the fact that 
Seattle the First had become hy as tvee and a father. 
Later it introduced Sealth the Second, or Seattle 
the Great, as a child. It told of his prestige as a 
prince. Occasionally this chant was interrupted by 
the angry notes of a far-away bird, and at each inter- 
ruption these notes waxed yet more strident and 
angry, whereby her audience understood the Thun- 
derbird was making threats and becoming very 


70 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


angry, because proper gifts and sacrifices had not 
been left at his cavern. 

Here were suddenly introduced into the chant, two 
white people, a man and a woman, and three mys- 
terious metal chests, or boxes. These had appar- 
ently been long in the palace, where they were 
looked upon as great treasures, and it was because 
they had not been sacrificed to the Thunderbird that 
his*anger had been aroused. 

How long the palace had possessed these treasures 
the chant did not recite definitely, for the Siwash in 
his loftiest flights of bravado or his most plain state- 
ments rarely expresses definite idea of time. The 
anger of the Thunderbird was increasing, and threat- 
ening cr;es were more frequently interjected. But 
now a council was in session — a council of the wise 
men and chiefs, or tyees, during which the Thunder- 
bird grew very vociferous. This council decided 
that a potlatch, or gift of the two white slaves and the 
three bright chests must be made. As soon as that 
decision was arrived at, the notes of the Thunder- 
bird began to grow softer, and finally ceased, while 
the chant proceeded. 

Here Sealth the Great, or Seattle the Second, fig- 
ured more prominently and loud was the acclaim 
when he stepped into the council and offered to head 
an expedition that should bear this magnificent offer- 
ing to the cave of the Thunderbird. Then followed 
a tender parting between Sealth First and Second, 
which was succeeded by the terrors of a march over 
crags and peaks, through snow and along icy 
glaciers, until at last the crater was reached. Here 


THE PRINCESS IN A TRANCE 


7i 


the gifts were presented in proper form, after which 
came the journey home. Much was made of this 
expedition, and the sufferings of the chosen band 
were described at great length. The arrival at the 
coast, the meeting of father and son, the acclaims of 
the people, all made a really pretty description, much 
more vivid than could be expected in the Chinook. 
It had to be aided by certain interjections in Duwam- 
ish, which Uncle Festus translated to Rex. As the 
chant ceased, the old woman swooned and lay in the 
dim light, her limbs twitching, her face convulsed. 
Her visitors, becoming alarmed, were about to lift 
her up, when she straightened out and awakened as 
if from a sleep. 

“Klahowyah! Bebe Ack! Klahowyah! Clapoot- 
chus Hintipso!” The old woman looked pleased, 
and wearily arose. 

“Been asleep, aunty?” questioned Rex. She 
looked puzzled, but finally answered by a vigorous 
nod. She then turned her attention to the fruit, 
and was as sociable as she had ever been. The con- 
versation was mainly between Rex and the Princess. 
Uncle Festus sat in deep thought. Even after they 
had left the cabin and were strolling homeward he 
was still silent and moody. 

“What’s the matter, Uncle Festus? Did the 
Princess’ catnip fit affect you? Why don’t you say 
something?” 

The old man made no direct answer, but taking 
Rex’s arm said: “What’s the use o’ stumblin’ along 
up this beach? Let’s go up on Second street an’ 
walk home in the light. The tide’s a-comin’ in, too. 


72 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


Come on.” Here they walked in silence for some 
distance, when Rex finally remarked : 

“Say, Uncle Festus! What do you really think of 
that yarn of hers? Was she in a trance and telling 
the truth, or was that heathen theatrical performance 
invented just to impress us?” 

“My boy,” said the old man solemnly, “I’ve heerd 
all that afore, not as a chant or Siwash rhapsodee, but 
in plain Duwamish without trimmins from old man 
Seattle himself. Thar’s more to it than you think, 
an’ even more’n he knew, as he admitted to me. 
This here’s another thing I don’t want ye to say 
anythin’ about. What time is it?’’ 

“Only a little after nine, Uncle.’*' 

“An’ we’re purty near my shack. D’ye s’pose 
yer ma’d be worried about ye, if ye kim in fer a half 
hour? I’ll tell ye the rest an’ chance it. That is, 
if ye’ll promise to keep it secret. But sho! What’s 
the use o’ askin’ ye? I know ye will. Come ’long 


CHAPTER X 


UNCLE FESTUS TELLS WHAT THEY MEAN 

“Now this is a short story,” remarked Uncle Fes- 
tus as seating himself on his bunk he lighted his 
pipe; “but it strikes me as corroboratin’ jest what 
we’ve heerd to-night. To tell the truth, boy, I 
didn’t expect to hear exactly what we did. I ex- 
pected a leetle more o’ Nika Papa’s doin’s an’ a leetle 
more definite information concernin’ the location 
of that there blarsted crater. As ’twas, we got 
more glory and less real solid information than I 
wanted. This information is what I’ve ben arter 
fer thirty year, an’ it’s what I’ll hev yet, too, or my 
name ain’t Ichabod Benjamin Franklin Estus. 

“But -to begin with. I kim here in June of ’64, 
jest two year afore old Seattle died, as you’ll find by 
consultin’ his grave-stun over there in the Injun 
cemetery at Port Madison. I’d ben wounded an’ a 
prisoner, as ye know, in the rebel prisons, an’ I hed 
the scurvy so as to be purty well run down. The 
voyage hed helped me some, but I wasn’t strong 
enough to work, an’ so all the first summer I loafed. 
I got acquainted with ole Bill Deshaw, a squaw man 
an’ a sub-Injun agent, over to Port Madison. He 
come three year afore I did, an’ is livin’ over there 
with a passel o ’ his half-breeds yit, a-runnin’ a small 
store. Wall, Bill alius has been a sociable feller, 
an’ I liked to hang ’round his place, which I did. 

73 


74 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


There I met all the Siwash, an’ there I learned the 
language. I was only about twenty-five year old in 
them days, an’ as I begun to git better, I was quite 
chipper. Now, if there’s anybody a Siwash likes, 
it’s a chipper, off-hand sort o’ feller. They may not 
have much to say to him, mebbe hardly speak, but 
if he handles ’em ’bout right, an’ don’t play no jokes 
on ’em, they’ll hang ’round an’ listen to his stories 
like a lot o’ children. Old Sealth an’ some o’ the 
other chiefs ’ud jest hang ’round me fer hours 
listenin’. Old Sealth ’ud never laugh, but I knowed 
by his eyes he understood, an’ I think now he 
alius understood both English an’ Chinook. He 
purtended, however, he didn’t know nothin’ but 
Duwamish, an’ it was jest to flatter him that I larned 
that jargon, which is nearer a language than any other 
on ’em ’round here. Ole Bill Deshaw married one o’ 
the granddarters o’ the ole chief, an’ possible they 
thought I was goin’ to marry another, which is some- 
thin’ the Injuns all seem to desire ’round here, but 
I never was much on the marry, an’ ef I was, a plain 
white womern ’ud suit me better’n even- a Siwash 
princess. 

“Wall, I stood in well. Angyline at that time 
uster come an’ go. Part o’ the time she was 
livin’ over here in Seattle, an’ part the time over 
there. She was a widow then, an’ a purty good- 
lookin’ sort of a klootchman. Ole Bill Deshaw he 
was a rank copperhead an’ a red hot pro-slavery 
man. I was on t’other side an’ hed fit in the war. 
Bill hadn’t, an’ when we hed our discussions, I uster 
poke it inter him that he run away up here to avoid 



FESTUS AND REX DISCUSS THE SIWASH TREASURE. 


75 


76 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


the war. I’m sure ole Seattle uster understand an’ 
as he hed a great respect fer a warrior, even though 
he was a lover o’ peace, I think he liked me better 
fer it. At any rate, when he was in his last sickness 
he wanted to see me an’ I went back over from 
Seattle an’ was with him in his last hours, even 
more’n Deshaw an’ the rest. 

“One night the ole feller felt a little stronger an’ 
in Duwamish he told me all about that trip up into 
the mountains, an’ declared that that crater, where 
he an’ the rest put the white couple an’ their gold 
chists — fer I alius shall believe them chists was 
treasure chists — was in a squar’ peak atween Mount 
Constance an’ Mount Olympus. He said there was 
a little lake there, one o’ them old craters filled up 
with water, an’ that the Thunderbird uster kim up 
through that lake, which hadn’t no bottom. The 
ole feller never explained to me how the water 
stayed in when it hed no bottom, an’ I never ast 
him. You must remember that the ole man was 
only ’bout sixteen year old when he went up there on 
that expedition, an’ he was ’bout eighty-five when he 
died in ’66. So I calculate they must a put them 
people in there about 1790 to 1795. An’ now comes 
the part Angyline didn’t tell, but which the ole man 
did: 

“Ole Sealth First, or Chief Sealth’s father, got 
them two white people about twenty-five year afore 
they finally sacrificed ’em, which I’m led to believe 
by certain other things he dropped. This man an’ 
womern — fer they was a man an’ womern — I kalker- 
late was some o’ them Spaniards what uster kim up 


UNCLE FESTUS TELLS WHAT THEY MEAN 77 

here ’fore Vancoover or Juan de Fuca or any o’ the 
rest o’ the early French, Spanish or English explorers. 
These two folks kim in a small ship an’ seven 
others with ’em. They was a-tradin’ along down 
the Sound, exchangin’ gew-gaws an’ frippery an’ 
blankets an’ sich with the Injuns fer gold an’ otter 
skins. They wanted nothin’ but gold an’ sea-otter 
skins, an’ they must a got lots o’ dust, all of which, 
I’m satisfied, went inter them three bright boxes. 
These people kim in ’bout three or four year afore 
Sealth or Seattle the Great was born. That’s the 
reason I’m able to kalkerlate how long they was held 
as slaves. It seemed Seattle the First didn’t hev 
nerve enough or wasn’t mean enough to wanter 
slaughter ’em, but some o’ the other chiefs per- 
swaded him to give his consent to the job. 

“The time it happened they was anchored off Old 
Man House right near Agate Passage, an’ by some 
hocus-pocus six on ’em was enticed on shore. Well, 
these six was set on an’ murdered, an’ then another 
band o’ Si wash started out in canims to git the other 
three an’ all the gew-gaws an’ the ship an’ the gold, 
an’ I dunno what all. Ye see, they never knowed 
the value o’ gold afore, an’ they argued that if it 
was worth so much an’ any other white man kim 
along with more gew-gaws they’d be in position fer 
trade. 

“The three aboard the schooner see ’em cornin’ an’ 
blazed away with some blunderbusses, at the same 
time histin’ sail, an’ away they went out toward 
Point No Point, leavin’ a lot o’ dead an’ howlin’ 
Si wash in a lot o’ partly wrecked canims. It so 


78 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


happened that there was a storm out on the straits 
that night, an 1 the schooner was driv in an’ stuck 
in the mud o’ Useless Bay over near Skagit Head. 
I’ve alius thought the wind mebbe driv ’em back 
an’ they wan’t wrecked, but went in there at 
high tide without takin’ soundin’s, an’ when the tide 
went out was stuck an’ listed over, fer ye know that 
Useless Bay is a terror that way to this day — not like 
Holmes Harbor or any o’ the bights ’long up 
t’other side o’ Whidby. Anyway, there they was 
an’ there ole Skagit found ’em, an’ they was inclined 
to help ’em out, when ’round the other side o’ the 
island comes a messenger from ole Sealth, say in’ 
the prisoners was his an’ he wanted ’em.' 

“Now, Skagit was a dependent o’ Sealth’s, an’ he 
hed to give in. Therefore, while pertendin’ to help 
’em, he reely took ’em to shore an’ later Sealth called 
’round and got ’em. How it was I don’t know, but 
when he comes fer ’em there wasn’t but two, where 
he’d expected three — the clapootchus hintipso, or 
long-beard, havin’ mysteriously disappeared. This 
kim near bringin’ on a war atween Skagit an’ Sealth, 
but they finally patched up a peace, Skagit givin’ 
one o’ his darters to Sealth. That darter was the 
mother o’ Seattle the Great. 

‘ ‘ She was an imperious young squaw an’ an imperi- 
ous old one, an’ she alius insisted the white klootch- 
man belonged to her an’ kep’ her roun’ her. 
When, finally, after many threats from the Thunder- 
bird, it was decided that the man an’ womern must 
be sacrificed, she raised Cain. She never forgave 
young Sealth fer actin’ ez head man in the expedi- 


UNCLE FESTUS TELLS WHAT THEY MEAN 79 

tion what took ’em up, an’ the last thing she ever 
did was to steal from Sealth a diary, or book full o’ 
writin’, which the white man had kept, an’ that diary 
she alius hid, givin’ it in turn, as Sealth believed, to 
Angyline, his darter an’ her granddarter. That 
diary I’ve no doubt Angyline ’s got to this blessed 
day. That was what I was hopin’ she’d a gin out 
to-night, but she didn’t, an’ I dunno’s she ever will. 
I know Sealth repented o’ that deed arterward, for 
when other Spaniards come, arter ole Sealth was 
dead, he was converted to a Catholic, an’ I think 
would hev trusted a priest fur enough to hev let him 
translate that diary if it hed been in Spanish, which 
I persoom ’twas. 

“However, he didn’t care to make much of a row 
about the book, fer old as he was when he died, an’ 
good Catholic as he was, he alius hed a sneakin’ 
regard fer the Thunderbird. I dunno but that was 
what made him so durned cautious ’bout givin’ up 
the exact location o’ that crater — he never would 
draw a map to go by — ’feard we’d rob the Thunder- 
bird, ye know, an’ it ’ud all kim back on him. But 
I do know he tole me considerable more durin’ his 
last sickness than he ever hed afore, an’ more, I 
think, than he ever tole any one else. Wall, we know 
more about this bizness than we did afore, an’ I 
guess you’d better putter on toward home. Of 
course they ain’t no need o’ my tellin’ ye to keep 
yer jaw on this matter. You wan ter keep yer eye 
peeled, too, an’ if ye do see or hear anythin' that 
sets ye a-guessin’, jest come to me an’ we’ll guess 
together. ’’ 


CHAPTER XI 


A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT REX HAS STRANGE DREAMS 

Rex went home from Uncle Festus’ cabin that 
night more filled with wonder than ever before in 
all the seventeen years of his life. It seemed to him 
as if he were walking along in a dream, and do what 
he would, he could hardly understand that he was in 
the flesh. As he reached the highest point of Queen 
Anne Hill, the clouds, which had all the evening 
hung low in the south and west, were swept north 
by a strong, quick wind, and the glorious moon shed 
its full effulgence far over the sheeny water, here 
and there still tossing and shooting up phosphor- 
escent gleams toward the pale queen of night. He 
turned and stood, long gazing out toward the snow- 
clad mountains, which, as the air cleared, seemed 
rising up through the mellow radiance. To the left, 
mighty Rainier proudly reared its majestic crest 
clean to the vault of heaven, and seemingly extended 
its base down through the mists and fogs of the 
Duwamish flats out to the city of Seattle, which lay 
at his feet with its myriad electric lights twinkling 
like fire-flies. To the right and far out across the 
bay loomed up the broken, irregular Olympics, their 
sharp crags and perpendicular peaks cropping out 
from underneath the gleaming snow like a mighty 
monster of the deep, whose gaunt form was fast 
losing its scales of silver. On these he looked 

80 


A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT 


81 


longest, and then turned in at the gate to find his 
mother sitting beneath the rose vines on the porch. 

“Have I kept you up, mother? I’m sorry. I 
forgot it was so late and wasted a deal of time moon- 
gazing out here on the brow of the hill. Was any- 
thing ever more beautiful than this night, mother?” 

“No, Rex; I have been waiting for you for some 
time, but such waiting with such a view is not a 
waste of time. I don’t know where I ever saw any- 
thing more beautiful than some nights out here. Sit 
down a moment and let us enjoy it together. ” 

“As the Irishman said: ‘Be jabbers! It’s nice to 
be alone whin yer swateheart’s wid ye,’ ” remarked 
Rex as he sat down beside her and put his arm about 
her waist. 

“Yes, Rex; so it is,” returned the happy little 
woman, as she nestled beside him. “I wonder 
where your father is to-night?” 

“Oh! he’s down the coast toward ’Frisco some- 
where. He’ll doubtless come in on the morning 
train.” Then they sat silent awhile, watching the 
moon as it settled down behind one of the tallest 
peaks of the Olympics. It had grown very red as it 
descended, and just as its upper disk went out of 
sight a red gleam shot up from behind and appar- 
ently out of the peak. 

“Oh, Rex! Do you see that? How much it looks 
like a volcano in eruption! My gracious! I hope 
nothing of that kind will ever happen around here.” 

“It will never happen again, mother; none of 
these peaks have been volcanoes for hundreds of 
ye^rs, although ’tis said that rumblings were heard 


REX DREAMS OF THE PRINCESS ANGELINE, 

82 



A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT 


83 


in that very mountain ninety-five years or more ago. 
That, however, was probably the last kick of the 
Thunderbird. ” 

“ ‘Thunderbird’ is a good name for it,” shuddered 
Mrs. Wayland. “What a horrible event an earth- 
quake and the eruption of such lofty mountains must 
be!” 

Soon after they retired, Rex to dream of Spanish 
galleons, chests of glittering gold, swoops and 
screams of a mighty Thunderbird, whose wings dark- 
ened the heavens and from whose awful beak came 
flames that lighted up the weird, troubled face of 
poor old Angeline as she seemed to be walking out 
across the waters, from somewhere at the back of 
Bainbridge Island. 4 4 Must be she was returning from 
a trip over to Old Man House,” mused Rex, as he 
lay awake the next morning. 

All that day her face haunted him, and although 
he went to church and looked fixedly at the minister 
throughout the sermon, he could not for the life of 
him have told the text. 


CHAPTER XII 


“the book! the book! the Spanish diary is mine!” 

The next Saturday Rex was deprived of the com- 
pany of Uncle Festus, who had gone over to Olympia 
on pension business. The old man started Friday 
afternoon, and Rex accompanied him as far as 
Blakely, where the latter went ashore to take a skiff 
and shoot along up to the north end of the island. He 
reached Dog Fish Bay — an indentation of the penin- 
sula, just opposite the north end of Bainbridge — 
about twilight, and hiding his skiff there, strolled 
along up to Agate Passage. This passage is a beau- 
tiful spot. The channel between the mainland and the 
island is never, even at high tide, more than a thou- 
sand feet wide, and the contour of the shores is such 
that the view from all directions is one of enchant- 
ment. Near the site of famous Old Man House and the 
little village Rex sat down to deliberate. He must 
soon seek a shelter for the night. Supper he did not 
care for, as he had brought that with him, eating as he 
came along, and was not at all hungry now. It was 
a considerable distance across to Port Madison if he 
went back for his boat. If not, he could not cross 
to Deshaw’s store. Suddenly he noticed a Siwash 
canoe round the point and come rapidly up along 
shore. From where he sat he could not be seen, 
but could see. The canoe was yet a mile or more 
away, but there was something about it that looked 

84 


“THE BOOK! THE SPANISH DIARY IS MINE! 5 ’ 85 

familiar. As it came nearer, he saw another figure 
beside the paddler, and that, too, looked familiar. It 
was Angeline. The paddler was her grandson. 

The sun had kissed the small cross on the Catholic 
church a fond good-night just as Rex came up, and, 
as he sat there, he had noted the stars coming out one 
by one. It was now nearly dark even on the water, 
and quite dark in the shadow of the shore. He 
would go down to the beach and as the boat came 
along, hail it and ask to be put across. But why was 
Angeline so far from home? Where was she going? 
The canoe was coming in toward shore. What were 
the two about? He would not show himself until 
he found out. He crept stealthily toward the beach. 
He would hail them if they kept out and went 
through the passage. But no. It was coming in. 
It was almost at the beach directly before the ruins 
of Old Man House. Angeline was climbing out. 
Now was the time to ask to be put across. No. He 
would not. He would see what she was up to. As 
her heavy shoes rattled on the pebbles of the beach, 
she turned, and giving the canoe a push out, said 
something in Chinook which sounded like: “I will 
be ready when you return.” Of this he was not 
sure, but he might as well wait until then anyway, 
and parting the bushes with his gun barrel, he 
watched her as she came directly toward him. She 
held something to her shrunken bosom, and was 
mumbling as she tottered along. As she reached 
the deeper shadow, she prostrated herself and lay 
there for a long time moaning. Just as the moon 
appeared over the trees on the opposite shore she 



REX FINDS THE SPANISH DIARY. 

86 



“THE BOOK! THE SPANISH DIARY IS MINE!” 87 


arose to her knees and stretched her arms out toward 
it. She had shifted her position a little while ly- 
ing down, and her face was now not only upturned 
to the moon, but in full view of Rex, who, while well 
concealed, was not fifteen feet from her. He noted 
how gray and ghastly she looked. The eyes some- 
times so keen and glittering were now half-shut and 
apparently swollen. They had no expression save 
that of dull pain, or semi-consciousness. 

Thus she knelt, looking long at the moon through 
her half-closed eyes, in which tear-drops began 
presently to sparkle. Then the tears gushed forth, 
and with a cry of “Nika Papa! Nika Papa!” she 
sank down again. As she once again raised her 
face she extended her hands, and in them was seen a 
flat box of highly polished cedar. As she held this up 
she kept wailing in subdued tones: “Nika Papa! 
Kakii-Silma klahowyum. Kum tux nika? Kum 
tux nika?” (My father, Kakii-Silma very wretched. 
Do you' understand me? Do you understand me?) 
This she repeated many times, and finally casting 
herself prone on the ground again, wailed: “Nika 
sheen! Nika sheen!’’ (I am ashamed! I am 
ashamed!) This she kept up for a long time, 
occasionally rising to her knees, gazing earnestly at 
the moon, and then going down again to mutter and 
grovel before its impassive face. 

Finally she became calmer, and picking up the 
box staggered along the beach a few yards to 
the base of what looked like a tall stub, broken 
over toward the bluff. Here she delved frantically 
with her bare hands, all the time whining, crying 


88 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


and moaning. The depth of the pit seemed finally 
to satisfy her, and arising, she held up the box to 
the moonlight, at the same time gabbling excitedly 
in Duwamish, a language Rex could hardly under- 
stand, but from which he gathered that she was tell- 
ing how she was returning the box to the place from 
whence it was taken. This she did, and carefully 
scraped in the earth, smoothing off the cache with the 
most exquisite nicety and throwing on top some larger 
stones to hide the traces of the recent disturbance. 

Then she tottered out along the beach to another 
stub, which Rex recognized as a totem pole. This 
she clasped, and then backing off prostrated herself 
before it. As she lay there on the ground, Rex heard 
first a faint chirp and then others, some apparently 
from the brush where he was hiding. These chirp- 
ings increased in volume until the gloomy woods 
seemed full of small birds, and he half expected to 
see them issue out in the moonlight, but none 
appeared, and gradually the sounds grew fainter and 
finally died away. At the last faint note the Princess 
arose, and, stretching her arms out toward the moon 
once more, waved her hands as if to show their empti- 
ness, while her face looked almost beautified. She 
was at last at peace. Restitution had been made for 
some theft of former years, and her heathen mind was 
satisfied that her father’s spirit looked down and gave 
her absolution. Finally she tottered to the place 
where she had landed, and squatted down. The tide 
was at its full, and the wavelets lapped the pebbles 
at her feet with a soothing sound. Her head settled 
lower and lower, and soon she fell asleep. 


“THE BOOK! THE SPANISH DIARY IS MINE!’* 89 

Rex did not care to sit there all night watching 
her. Neither did he dare make his presence known. 
He finally decided to steal through the bushes 
along the beach to the small village, where he hoped 
to obtain a night’s lodging, and was about to set out, 
when he heard a sharp whistle from the canoe 
headed straight to the place where the old woman 
sat asleep. As the boat came nearer, the grandson 
called out, but Angeline slept on. The young man 
got out of the canoe, and walking up to her, shook 
her. The hands unclasped from about the knees 
and Angeline fell over sidewise, but did not awaken. 
The young man bent down, gathered her up in his 
strong arms, laid her in the canoe, spread an old 
slicker over her, and taking up his paddle moved 
away, even more silently than he had come. 

For a long time Rex lay there in the moonlight, 
but heard no sound save the leaping salmon in the 
water, the moan of the night wind in the trees, and 
the plash of the wavelets on the broadening beach, 
for the tide was going out fast. Could any one else 
have seen this mysterious performance? He was 
quite sure not, but he would wait longer, and wait 
he did for nearly an hour. Once he heard the dogs 
over at Deshaw’s give vociferous tongue, but soon 
this disturbance ceased, and he resolved to investi- 
gate that cache. He crept along, and removing the 
coarser gravel from the top, began to dig with scarce 
less feverish haste than the Princess had shown. 
Soon his fingers touched the box, and laying it aside, 
he carefully filled in the hole. Then catching up the 
box, he fled like a guilty thief to the deeper shadow 


90 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


of the brush. He dared not build a fire nor light a 
match to survey his treasure. What was it? He 
half guessed, but could not be sure. He examined 
it as best he could in the moonlight and found it to 
be a neatly-made box with no visible nails or screws, 
thus looking more like a block of cedar than a box. 
Its corners were rounded, and it was some twelve 
inches in length by about eight in width and four in 
depth. A small, notched peg protruded from one 
side. This he pulled, but it did not give. He pushed 
it, and it went in but sprang out again. He pushed it 
once more and the lid of the box came off in his hands. 
Before him was a book of some ancient leather bind- 
ing, with leaves of vellum or sheepskin. These leaves 
were thick and closely written with ink of a reddish 
tinge. It was not light enough to read this writing 
or to judge whether it was English, Spanish or Ger- 
man. He must wait for the light. He put the 
precious volume in the capacious pocket of his 
hunting-coat, and snapping the box shut by pushing 
the cover past the spring or peg, he crept to the 
standard and reburied it. Then he sneaked back 
into the shadow and curling down among the bushes, 
lay there shaking and shivering from nervousness, 
all the time repeating to himself: “The book! The 
book! The Spaniard’s diary is mine! I’ll get that 
gold yet! That’s what I’ll do, and all the Siwash 
this side of Jordan can’t prevent it. Let ’em try! 
Let ’em try!’’ It was not until near morning that 
he fell asleep. His bed was a cold one, and his 
slumber was troubled. 


CHAPTER XIII 


UNCLE FESTUS SAYS: “RETURN THE BOOK’’ 

Rex was awakened at dawn by the hoarse whistle 
of an incoming tug, and sprang to his feet like a 
fugitive. The volume in his pocket swung heavily 
against him, and he glanced nervously about in the 
faint light as if fearful that some one was bent upon 
taking his treasure from him. He was hungry and 
very cold, and longed to go out to a cabin along 
shore, but he dared not. He must not be seen near 
Old Man House. Some one might suspect some- 
thing. He must be far away from there before day- 
light. He ran back along the beach, stumbling 
over the boulders, bruising his shins and hands. A 
logging road led back into the woods, and into this 
he darted, running faster as the light came on. In 
a short time he had reached a clearing and saw a 
ranch-house, out of the chimney of which the smoke 
of an early fir-wood fire was rolling in a dense vol- 
ume. Some one was up. He would make a strike 
for breakfast. Luckily he was unknown to the 
rancher, and while he sat at breakfast told a plausi- 
ble story of getting belated in the woods and lying 
out all night. The rancher, who was “baching it,’’ 
was full of pity, and it was with great difficulty that 
Rex persuaded him to take a two-bit piece for the 
meal. To satisfy his conscience for this extortion, 
as he viewed it, the rancher insisted on Rex filling 

91 


9 * 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


his pockets with bread, meat and apples, sufficient 
for noon lunch and evening meal. 

Having agreed to meet Uncle Festus at the lower 
end of the island on his return, and having hidden 
his skiff in Dog Fish Bay that he might row down 
Rex was obliged to make his way once more to 
the beach and go up as near the Indian vil- 
lage and Old Man House as Dog Fish Bay. This 
he dreaded, but there was no help for it. He met 
no one, and, securing his skiff, rowed boldly out to 
the south, hunting along shore and reaching Blakely 
about io a..m. He had never visited the great mills 
there, and under ordinary circumstances would have 
improved the opportunity, but as it was, he felt loath 
to speak to any one or to be seen. He therefore 
rowed out toward Vaslion, and lay there awaiting the 
appearance of the steamer which would bring Uncle 
Festus. He was a mile or more from land. Why 
would not this be a good opportunity to look at the 
book? He pulled it forth, but put it hastily back as 
he fancied he saw some one on shore with a long 
glass leveled at him. At this instant a puff of smoke 
and later a report proved the supposed telescope to be 
a fowling-piece, and the supposed watcher some stroll- 
ing hunter along the north end of Vashon. At any 
other time Rex would have laughed at his foolish 
fears, but now he could not see the comic side of 
things, and with a sigh slowly pulled forth the book 
again, holding it low in the boat while examining it. 

It was indeed a quaint volume. Its sides or covers 
were of elk-hide, two or three thicknesses being glued 
together to secure the necessary rigidity of case. The 



94 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


edges had been rubbed and polished with dog-fish 
skin or some other rude sandpaper to clear them 
of traces of glue, but as the glne had been of Si wash 
manufacture from deer hoofs, it was thick and plainly 
showed the several layers of elk-hide. The propor- 
tions of the case or covers were good, and the back- 
ing was put on quite neatly for so rough a job. The 
vellum leaves were evidently of deer-skin, tanned, 
and while as thin as it was possible to make them 
with rough tools, were still much thicker than sheep 
or lamb skin would have been. The sewing of these 
leaves, all of which were double, was similar to the 
sewing in of sections of any book and a very credit- 
able job when we consider that deer-sinews were the 
thread, and the needle, without doubt, a thorn or 
sharp bone. A strong cord of twisted deer-sinews 
was carried back and forth across the gathered leaves, 
and to this the sewing of the leaves or sections was 
tied. In turn, these cross-pieces were also sewed 
through to the backbone of the volume. It was a 
rude but a very strong job of primitive binding, and 
probably no book was every made that would stand 
wear better. In fact, it would have been almost 
impossible to tear one of its leaves, and as for its 
covers, the elk-hide had dried and shrunk so hard 
that a keen knife-edge would have been turned by 
it. The volume was about two inches thick, about 
eight by ten inches in size, and opened quite flat. 
Every page but four had been written on both sides 
with some rude stylus or pen, dipped in the dark red 
juice of some berry or root. This ink had not run 
nor was it blurred when rubbed by Rex’s moist 


UNCLE FESTUS SAYS: “RETURN THE BOOK” 95 

finger. The ink-maker had evidently chosen some 
indelible color, and had put down his chirography 
with a steady, firm hand, for there was not a blot or 
false stroke from cover to cover. The title-page 
contained only the name, “Andres Tenorio,” and 
the words, “Hombre de un libro” (a man of one 
book), also the dates 1749-1793. The name occupied 
the first or upper line, the quotation another line, 
and the dates a third. All were embraced by a 
graceful scroll, evidently the work of an adept in 
penmanship. The body of the book was closely 
written in Spanish, the only words Rex could under- 
stand the meaning of being “Seville,” “Hispaniola 
America,” “Sealth,” “ Skagiticus, ” “Kakii-Silma” 
and other proper names. In the center of the last 
page or fly-leaf was the Latin quotation: “Culpam 
poena premit comes” (punishment surely follows, or 
follows close upon crime). Immediately under this 
quotation and a little to the right was again the 
name, “Andres Tenorio. ” 

Had the book been entirely in Latin Rex could 
have made himself master of its contents, but now, 
study as he would, he could only conjecture that it 
was a record, diary, or autobiography of one Andres 
or Andrew Tenorio, a Spaniard who lived from 
1749 to 1793, and who, born in Seville, died or was 
compelled to part company with his book about 1793. 
That it was the diary of the man or men sacrificed 
to the Thunderbird, Tamahnawis, he had little doubt, 
and he anxiously awaited the coming of his old friend 
that he might show him this wonderful find. He 
carefully replaced the book in the pocket of his coat, 


9 6 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


and. taking tip the oars began to row back toward 
Blakely. Before he reached it the steamer plying 
from Tacoma, where Uncle Festus was to have 
made the change if on time, came in sight around 
Vashon, and headed toward Blakely. He then knew 
that Uncle Festus must be aboard, and before the 
steamer touched wharf was sure of it, for the old 
man stood on the upper deck waving his arms at 
him. 

“Wall, youngster! What luck? Whar’s yer 
game?” 

“Not a thing, Uncle. I shot a hell-diver and a 
brant, but the brant had been wounded before, and 
was not good, so I threw him away. Climb in here. 
Quick! I’ve got something else you’ll want to see — 
something I can’t* show here,” he added in a low 
voice. The old man, gun in hand, clambered into 
the boat, while Rex pulled rapidly out into the 
channel again. Around the point and well out of 
earshot of everybody, he bent forward and whispered 
to his astonished companion: “I’ve got that Span- 
iard’s diary. Angeline had it and she does n’t know 
I’ve got it. Oh, I worked the thing slick. No one 
will ever know where it’s gone, for no one saw me 
near there.’’ 

“I hope ye ain’t been stealin’,’’ said the old man, 
gravely. 

“Not exactly that; you can call it what you’ve a 
mind to. I took it from- where it had been left. 
Wait until we get out here a piece and I’ll tell you 
all about it and show it to you.” The old man 
looked dubious, but sat silent, while Rex plied his 


UNCLE FESTUS SAYS; “RETURN THE BOOK” 97 


oars until he deemed the boat a safe distance from 
land. Then drawing forth the book he handed it to 
the old man, who silently inspected it, while the 
story of its finding was told him. Rex did not neg- 
lect one detail, and, as he finished, evidently ex- 
pected some approving comment. Uncle Festus sat, 
however, in silent meditation, his eyes fastened on 
the book in his hand. Rex was somewhat aston- 
ished at this attitude, and finally burst forth rather 
impatiently: 

“Well! What do you think? Didn’t I do it up 
brown?’’ 

“What d’ye mean? The stealin’?’’ 

“You don’t call that stealing, do you?’’ 

“I sartainly do. ” 

“The taking of a book, under those circum- 
stances?’’ 

“What else is it but stealin’?’’ 

“Why! She left it there, and either she or some 
one else stole it from Sealth in the 'first place.” 

“She never stole it. ’Twas her mother or grand- 
mother, ole Skagit’s darter an’ Sealth ’s first wife. I 
persoom Angyline was told on it when this Kakii 
Silma or mother o’ hern was about to die. Perhaps 
she took it with a promise to ole Kakii Silma to gin 
it up to Sealth arter a while. I persoom ole Kakii 
Silma, even on her death-bed, didn’t care to face 
the ole feller an’ confess. And now ye see, as 
Angyline nears her end, she, too, is in trouble. I 
tell ye, boy, even some Siwash has consciences.’’ 

“Yes; but whose book is it? Is it Angeline’s?” 

“Yes; in one way ’tis, an’ another ’tain’t. But 


9 8 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


’tain’t your’s ner mine unless we kin git Angyline 
to sell or give it to us. ’ ’ 

“What shall I do with it, then?” 

“I’d put it back where I found it.” 

“You would?” 

“I most sartainly would.” 

Rex looked at the old man in the greatest astonish- 
ment. Uncle Festus slowly and deliberately laid the 
book down, drew forth his pipe and tobacco pouch 
and lighted up. Then from the clouds of fragrant 
smoke came his judicial opinion, remarkable for its 
quaintness and for its demonstration of the analogy 
between law and common sense. 

“I ain’t had time to consider this matter right 
well, but to the best o’ my jedgment, you’re a thief 
if you keep that air book. It’s jest in this way: 
you’re takin’ from some one somethin’ they know 
they’ve got an’ you ain’t givin’ ’em any sort o’ a 
return. Even if you’d a bought that book fer a 
trifle and later found the treasure it’s a key to, I 
should think ye bound to make the ole woman a 
han’some present, but if ye take it an’ rob her of 
what’s her’n an’ her father’s before her, ye’re com- 
mittin’ a theft. I don’t think you thought o’ that, 
but you can’t deny it jest the same. Old Sealth’s 
first wife, I think, it was, as Sealth told me an’ 
believed, stole that book; an’ while he might not 
have wanted her to hev it, a theft from husband by 
wife, ’specially when both is Siwashes, is a point too 
fine to take up. Now Angyline was the ole man’s 
pride, an’ if any one was to benefit from that book 
after he was gone, it’s my opinion he would want it 


UNCLE FESTUS SAYS: “RETURN THE BOOK” 99 

to be her. I don’t think the ole man, if he was 
alive to-day, would blame her very much if he 
knowed all the sarcumstances as we do. The 
actual value o’ that there book is only s’posable. 
It may be wuth a hunderd thousand dollars, or 
it may not be wuth any more’n one o’ these his- 
torical sassities ’ud give up fer it. However, it’s 
wuth all it’ll fetch, an’ them proceeds, if Angy- 
line wants ’em, belongs to her. They ain’t yourn 
ner mine. Your father didn’t acquire that book 
by conquest or in war of any kind, as ole 
Sealth an’ his father did. If he hed an’ hed died, 
your mother never stole it fer you, as Kakii Silma 
did fer Angyline, whose Injun name, by the way, 
happens to be Kakii Silma, too. As fer her grand- 
son, he ain’t no claim on that book, only through ole 
Angyline, an’ he ain’t no right to it until arter she’s 
gone. He don’t support her. She’s alius supported 
him an’ does yet. His right in the book is only 
small an’ so durned small this court fails ter see it. 
Now the only righteous way o’ your acquirin’ 
that book is fer you an’ I to go to Angyline an’ buy 
it. If she won’t sell, we must wait until she’s dead. 
I’ve an idee you couldn’t buy that book of Angyline. 
Too much Tamahnawis about it. She’d be afraid 
to sell it. If ) T ou offer ter buy it she’ll probably hide 
it summers else. Then we might not find it. Thar 
ye air. Ye can’t safely say anythin’ about the book; 
ye can’t righteously keep it, an’ it’s gotter go back. 
Set over here an’ I’ll row up.” 

Rex was dumfounded. He yielded up the oars 
and sadly sat down to ponder. It was plain to him 


IOO 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


that the old man was right, but he felt indignant 
that such a strict interpretation of the law of the 
rights of property should be applied to him and his 
find. However, it was no use to object. He knew 
the old man’s firmness and he also knew the old man 
was right. In his own eagerness he had forgotten 
that Angeline was human and had rights of property. 
Whether or not she meant to hide this book and 
retain possession of it he did not know. The old 
man gave her the benefit of the doubt, and on that 
basis would return the book. Rex had looked upon 
her act as a manifestation of a desire to cast the book 
from her; to get rid of it; to banish it from her 
sight forever. The only way to determine that was 
to put the book back and await her death. If she 
did not devise or bequeath it, if she never again dis- 
turbed it, he and Uncle Festus would be justified in 
considering it something she had cast away, and no 
matter what its value to them, to her it had been of 
no value, and they were then entitled to the advan- 
tage of it by right of discovery. 

This was Uncle Festus’ reasoning, and he had 
made it so clear that Rex said no more, but sat silent 
with a very sober face until Agate Passage was 
reached. 

“Uncle Festus, what are you going to do after 
you’ve returned this book?’’ 

“Row across home. We won’t git in till midnight, 
nuther. We’ve been four hours cornin’ up, where 
we ought to a come up in less’n two, talk an’ all. I’m 
no more anxious ’an what you air to hev anyone else 
know about this book. I’ll put yer ashore, row out 


UNCLE FESTUS SAYS: “RETURN THE BOOK” ioi 


in the middle o’ the passage, whar I kin see if any 
one’s watchin’ ye, an’ if I whistle ye kin know it’s 
all right an’ go ahead. If I whistle twict, ye must 
postpone yer buryin’.” The book was replaced 
without any one appearing, and as Rex was picked 
up, Uncle Festus again bent to the oars. They 
rowed about the passage for a time, and shot their 
guns at birds along shore to avoid the appearance of 
stealth, and finally, late in the afternoon, struck out 
toward the open Sound and across home. As Rex 
took his turn at the oars, the old man resumed his 
outline of the plan he had in mind. 

“When I git time we’ll stroll down to Angyline’s 
shack an’ I’ll tell her what her father told me about 
that book, an’ I’ll ask her if she’s got it. I’ll tell 
her I wanter buy the book an’ will give her $10 fer 
it. If she won’t sell, I’ll let’er go an’ all my spare 
time I’ll spend huntin’ ’round over on them Olym- 
pics fer the crater, with the big elk’s horns a-hang- 
in’ over it. Mebbe we kin find the treasure without 
her ole book — it’s all writ in Spanish, anyway.’’ 

“Yes; but we could get it translated.’’ 

“You could, an’ give away the hull secret. Not 
ef we know ourselves. The only way that book will 
ever be translated, if we do git it, is by you. I’m 
too old to larn Spanish, but you ain’t.’’ 

“I suppose, Uncle Festus, if we find the treasure, 
Angeline owns it,” said Rex a little bitterly. 

“No; not any more’n the rest of her tribe. It’s 
my opinion that if we made her declinin’ years com- 
fortable an’ founded a Si wash horspittle or orphan 
asylum, we’d be a-doin : the fair thing.” 


102 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


“In other words, you’d take property they’ve cast 
away, which they stole from white people, and waste 
it on the descendants of these savages?’’ 

“No; by jing! I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t go so fur 
as that. I wanter be honest an’ I can’t reconcile my 
mind to take thet book from Angyline until I know 
whether or not she’s throwed it away. If she ever 
dies an’ leaves it, I’ll say go ahead an’ use it. You 
might commence to study Spanish at once, fer shb 
can’t last long. ’’ 

“She may last forty years yet, Uncle. You’re too 
honest. My heart’s broken,’’ replied Rex, half 
seriously. “But here we are. It’s after ten o’clock, 
and I’ve got to climb Queen Anne hill yet. Good- 
night!” 

When Rex reached home he was very tired, and 
so discouraged that he felt like crying himself to 
sleep. However, he fell asleep quicker than he had 
anticipated, and it seemed to him he had hardly 
closed his eyes when he was aroused by a scream 
from his mother, and springing from his bed, dashed 
down-stairs. 


CHAPTER XIV 


COLONEL WAVLAND’S SUDDEN DEATH 

It was in reality nearly six o’clock when Rex was 
awakened that morning - . His sleep had been so pro- 
found and dreamless, the short autumn days made 
the house so dark at this hour, and the awakening 
had been so sudden, that he at first thought it hardly 
midnight. To his confused mind, as he rushed 
down-stairs, came thoughts of burglars, fire and what 
not, but not an inkling of the terrible blow he 
was about to receive. Some philosopher has said 
it is the unexpected that always happens, and so it 
was in this case, for how could either Rex or his 
mother, even if morbidly inclined, ever dream of 
such news as Mrs. Wayland had just read from the 
piece of yellow paper in her hand? Rex saw the 
messenger boy standing in the door as he came 
down, and, not seeing his mother, was about to ask 
the boy where she had gone and what was the 
matter, when she staggered out from behind the 
stairway, endeavored to speak, stammered and fell 
fainting, the telegram crushed in her hand. The 
messenger boy was a manly and resourceful little 
fellow, and while he said little, acted a useful part. 
He aided Rex in carrying Mrs. Wayland into the 
parlor, where they laid her on the sofa, and he sat 
beside her chafing her hands, while Rex hunted for 
camphor and smelling salts. When these came he 

103 


io4 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


bathed her forehead and wrists and held the bottle 
to her nose, while Rex studied the telegram. Alas! 
It needed little study. It was so brutally plain that 
Rex, even in his stupefying sorrow, found occasion 
to wonder how people could be so curt. It read: 

“Portland, Oregon, 1:15 a. m. 
“Mrs. R. G. Wayland, 

“1424 Hill Ave., Seattle., Wash. 

“Colonel R. G. Wayland fell dead 6 p. m., while 
on way to train. Body in my charge, and will be 
shipped at once. Harvey Beach, Coroner.” 

As Rex read and reread this awful message, he 
seemed for a time stupefied. He was soon aroused, 
however, by a faint sigh from his mother, over whose 
white face came waves of returning color and from 
whose parted lips later issued faint, long-drawn 
moans. She was coming back to her sorrow again, 
and, wishing to be alone with her, Rex paid the boy 
and dismissed him, thanking him for his kindness. 
Then, holding the fluttering hands of her who was 
now his only relative, he sat and studied the tele- 
gram and tried to realize its meaning. 

“The body must soon arrive in Seattle,” he 
thought. “Who could ever have dreamed that my 
father would go in this way? He was the picture of 
health, and, while a good liver, abstemious in the 
use of liquors. No; this sudden death is not due 
to any form of dissipation. I have heard him say 
that his father had heart trouble, and that certain 
fatal tendencies, on both sides of the house, pre- 
vented him carrying insurance. I wonder if he had 
any, and if not, how are mother and I to get along? 





MRS. WAYLAND FAINTS ON READING THE TELEGRAM, 

105 


106 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

He was very improvident, for he was so light- 
hearted and confident that as soon as any difficulty 
was over with he never looked for more. Father 
ought to have been rich, but as it is, he leaves 
mother and me poor. Well, he was a good husband 
and father, and, terrible as this blow is to us, I am 
glad that his death was sudden and painless.” 

Here the whole weight of his sorrow, the pitiful 
predicament he and his mother were placed in, struck 
him with peculiar significance, and, man as he almost 
was, he fell to weeping like a child. This outburst 
did him good, and was soon over, and when Mrs. 
Wayland came to herself, he was outwardly calm 
and very tender. He embraced her, saying: “Dear 
little mother, we two are alone in the world now, 
it seems, and we must be all in all to one another. 
We should be thankful this terrible trouble did not 
come while I was a child. I am a man now, and 
you will soon see how well I will care for you. As 
for poor father, while his death was horribly sudden, 
you must remember it was painless, and you and I 
both know he would much rather have gone in this 
way than to have endured a long illness. Come now, 
be a brave little woman, and make the best of it.” 

Mrs. Wayland, under this sensible, treatment, 
soon regained her self-control, and her son could 
but admire her thoughtfulness and careful atten- 
tion to the details of the necessary arrangements. 
Prior to the arrival of the body came a delegation 
of Masons to condole with the bereaved wife and 
son, and to express their regret that the clumsy 
official at Portland had not discovered the standing 


COLONEL WAYLAND’S SUDDEN DEATH 107 

of the deceased before sending that telegram. It 
seemed that Colonel Wayland’s sudden death had 
not been generally known about Portland that 
evening. He had been about town all day looking 
after matters of business, and ate a hearty dinner, as 
was his custom, shortly before six p. m. He had 
then left the hotel in apparent good health, starting 
toward the depot on foot. He might have taken a 
car or a cab but for the reason, as he remarked to 
certain acquaintances, he felt rather dull, and 
thought a walk would do him good. He happened 
to be near a doctor’s office when taken ill, and 
hastened in for relief. The doctor retired to another 
room and began preparing a pepsin prescription, 
thinking the trouble due to indigestion, when, on 
re-entering the outer office, he found his patient 
lying upon the floor. The doctor applied restora- 
tives and threw open the window for fresh air, but 
all was of no avail. The colonel expired inside of 
ten seconds after being found. 

The papers in the pockets of the dead man showed 
him to be a traveling insurance adjuster for several 
different companies in the east, but as the coroner 
had not time to hunt up local agents, who would 
have taken the body in charge, and as he found a 
letter from the dead man’s wife, showing con- 
clusively who he was and where he resided, he 
bothered himself not but shipped the body to 
Seattle by first train. The inquest, which he con- 
ducted with all celerity possible, for the reason that 
the fee was a stated one, developed the fact that 
the bursting of a small blood-vessel at the base of 


io8 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


the brain, causing pressure on the medulla oblongata 
or post cervical nerve center, was the cause of death. 

All these facts this careful official gave to a 
reporter at a late hour and it was by the merest 
chance that a very brief account of the sad occurrence 
was wired to the Seattle “P. I.” This account, 
brief as it was, however, had brought these Masonic 
brethren to the widow’s door and never did a family 
appreciate kindly offices more. There is no neces- 
sity of dwelling further on the sad scenes that 
followed. The Colonel was found to have died as 
he had lived — with little thought for the morrow. 
Though one of the best of men, he had always been 
improvident, living as he went and never saving a 
cent. By a lucky venture, he had once in the east 
accumulated a small fortune. That was just after 
the war and while he was yet weak and ill from 
wounds received in the Richmond campaign. It 
had seemed to him as if any one could make money, 
his having come so easily, and he had bothered 
himself little about business, until the profits of this 
one successful venture were nearly gone. Then he 
bestirred himself, risked again and lost everything. 
It was hard for this soldier and officer to apply 
himself to business. He knew not what to turn his 
hand to. There were many like him, but through 
the kindness of friends, he finally secured a lieu- 
tenant’s commission in the regular army and went 
to the then northwest, to help keep the Indians in 
subjection. This life the Colonel liked, and he 
might always have remained a regular, had he not 
while on a furlough met the beautiful daughter of 


COLONEL WAYLAND’S SUDDEN DEATH 109 


an old friend, married her and for her sake thrown 
up his commission and come east to once more try- 
civilized life and business. The panic of ’73 came 
on shortly after this and soon the Colonel had 
parted with his small capital and was left with a 
family on his hands. Insurance was the only 
avenue open, and he entered upon this business, 
with the same good nature and happy disposition 
that had kept him young despite all his reverses. 
He had so many friends and was so quietly persist- 
ent that he won first a poor living and later a fairly 
luxurious one. As the trusted agent of a well- 
established line of companies, he was in receipt of a 
fine income, when the bait of an adjustership for all 
the northwestern field caught him, and he decided 
to go west. Here he found plenty of work, had 
constantly gained acquaintances, had seen a field 
before him, and had thought it best to live well and 
keep up appearances. He had done this and, as a 
result, had left his family penniless, except for the 
thousand-dollar benefit from the Masonic association. 
Nearly half of this was eaten up by the funeral 
expenses, and the holiday season of 1895 found Rex 
and his mother \ery anxious for the future. The 
Colonel had been in receipt of a small pension, a 
portion of which fell to his widow, but it was 
insufficient for their maintenance. In fact, it was 
but $240 a year, and would no more than pa}^ 
their house rent and clothe them. 

“Well!” exclaimed Mrs. Wayland one evening, as 
they sat talking and planning, “I don’t see but I 
shall have to move to the center of the city, take 


no 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


a larger house and get a few boarders. We must do 
something to keep you in school, Rex. You must 
enter the university in a year, you know. ’ * 

Rex made no reply, but sat in deep thought for 
some time. Finally he asked: “Mother, would it 
disappoint you much if I gave up school and went 
to work at something?” 

“Certainly it would, Rex, and very much too. 
What put that idea into your head?” 

“Why, Mother, it can’t be otherwise. I’ve can- 
vassed the situation pretty carefully, and I find that 
through these hard times, which are harder here 
than anywhere else in the world, I guess, boarding 
house keepers are actually losing money, — that is, 
those who have any to lose, and certainly none are 
making any. Now, I had thought this matter all 
over, and while thinking of it I looked into the 
business. I had hoped that you could take a large 
house, hire three or four servants, and by getting 
a nice class of boarders, with my help make a good 
living. To be sure, it would have been a constant 
care upon both and very hard upon you, but you 
remember that, back home, Mrs. Harper did that 
while her Jim was in school, and that they got him 
through nicely. But I’ve looked over all the ground 
here and it’s as I tell you. We can’t live that way. 
We mustn’t lose the little capital we have, for while 
we have some good friends here, we haven’t a 
relative nor a dollar in the world, over and above that 
$545.73 now in the bank. We are even living in a 
furnished house, and as it seems like home to us, I 
hope to continue living here. But we can’t do even 


COLONEL WAYLAND’S SUDDEN DEATH hi 


that, unless I can get a job, for $12.50 per month is 
too much rent. I’ve hunted for two days for wo^k 
and found none. I can go salmon fishing and 
trapping and hunting with Uncle Festus, but that is 
precarious and we may not make a cent. He’s 
puttering around, as he says, most of the time, and 
I don’t believe he earns $250 a year. We need 
about $500 more than that, to live as we are living. 
I hardly expect to strike $15 a week these hard 
times, but I’m striving. I’ll report to you every 
night. Be a brave little mother, and keep cheerful, 
but don’t hug the false delusion that I am to keep 
in school. It can’t be done. The times are too 
hard. I must give up school for a year or two, and 
work. I’m young enough, and have a good start. 
Something may happen to give us a “stake” before 
long, and if so I’m willing to spend all but a 
small sum for an education, for I want one, but 
to be a burden on you, to sit by and see you use 
up the little father left, I cannot and will not. 
If I can’t support you any other way, I'm going 
into a logging camp. There are always men wanted 
there, and I’m strong enough, goodness knows. 
Good-night, Mother,” and he kissed the troubled 
little woman down whose cheeks the tears were 
rolling. 

That kiss was not an unusual thing, so it could not 
have been that which relieved her; but something 
surely did, for she went to bed that night and slept 
well, the first time since the Colonel’s death. Rex 
did not know it, but the manner in which he had 
assumed charge of her and their affairs, had a won- 


I 12 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


derfully soothing effect on the overwrought little 
woman, and if ever a mother was proud of a manly 
son, she was of him. 


CHAPTER XV 


REX FAILS TO FIND EMPLOYMENT — UNCLE FESTUS TO 
THE RESCUE 

Boy-like, Rex had started in with a hope of some 
managerial position, but every situation of that kind 
was, of course, closed to him, and he began to realize 
how hard it was to work up to even such a position as 
his father had occupied. He had thought somewhat 
of going in as a solicitor, and felt sure he could by 
middle age win a lucrative and prominent status in 
the insurance world, but at the start, how were he 
and his mother to live ? He might make a living 
from the beginning, and he might not. No; he 
must have a certainty. Then he canvassed the 
stores for a position as salesman, but times were 
too hard to add new men ; even the old ones were 
hanging on for dear life, knowing not where they 
would fetch up if they once lost their grip. He 
tried a civil service examination for mail-carrier and 
passed reasonably well, but he was seventh on the 
list, and unless an unprecedented number of mail- 
carriers died, or the city grew so as to need many 
more, there would be no show for him for years to 
come. Then he sought a position on the street-car 
lines, but none was vacant. Of pursers on steam- 
boats, there was any quantity ; of railway clerks, even 
more. Besides, he was not an expert bookkeeper. 
One afternoon, pretty well discouraged, he sought 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


114 

Uncle Festus, hoping to meet with advice or encour- 
agement. The old man was, as usual, glad to see 
him and capered around in a manner entirely foreign 
to his usual dignified deportment. 

“So you’ve no job yet, boyee? Well! I knew you 
wouldn’t find any right away. Not but what you’re 
smart enough to do anything, but you see times are 
hard, ain’t been as hard in twenty year, if ever 
they wuz on this coast. Of course you may hit 
somethin’ arter a while, but in my opinion ye won’t 
never find anything outside o’ a dead man’s shoes. 
If some salesman happens to die now, or some 
grocery delivery man gits throwed from his waggin 
on one o’ these hills an’ breaks his blarsted neck, 
ye may git a chance ter break yourn. Ye see, there’s 
nothin’ doin’ — no new enterprises. In 1889, a man 
on this coast, even though he hadn’t any brains, 
could earn from twenty to thirty bits a day with 
his hands. No trick at all to strike a ‘job,’ as the 
Swedes say. Now, there’s a little doin’ in the mines 
an’ considerable in lumber. If ’twasn’t fer our 
Australian trade, there wouldn’t be nothin’ doin’ in 
lumber, but as ’tis, a man who’s willin’ to work 
kin make tol’able fair wages — ordinary hands from 
a dollar to ten bits an’ board. To be sure, a job in 
a lumber camp is only a peg above a job afore the 
mast, an’ that last’s only a peg above slavery, but if 
I was you, ’fore I’dlay ’round, waitin’ fer sumthin’ to 
turn up, I’d go in an’ pull a cross-cut saw an’ swing 
an axe. There’s a possibility of sumthin’ better in 
that line, an’ I declar’ fur it, I’d about as soon be 
foreman in a big lumber camp at a hundred to a 



1 16 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

hundred an’ fifty a month an' found, as to be a 
counter jumper measurin’ off cloth an’ merlasses fer 
six dollars a week an’ find yerself. One’s a little 
more ’ristercratic than t’other, but bein’ as yer after 
a stake to spend in gettin’ an eddication, I don’t see 
but what the quickest way to git it is the best way. ’ ’ 

“Money is all I’m after, Uncle Festus, and if you 
can assure me more at pulling a cross-cut saw than 
I can get as a bank-clerk or salesman, I’m after 
the saw. I want to be a lawyer or doctor some da)q 
but I want a college education first, and before that, 
or anything else, I want to take care of mother.’’ 

Uncle Festus sat silent for a few minutes, gravely 
stroking his beard. Finally he looked up. “See 
here, boyee ! go on home and come round to-morrer. 
No, by jing! kim with me now. I’m purty old to 
start in again, but if they’ll let me, jest fer your 
sake, I’ll do it. Kim along down to my boat.” As 
they rowed out across the harbor, the old man was 
thoughtful and silent, but finally broke out again. 
‘•‘I dunno but you’ll think me an’ old fool to 
undertake business agin at my time o’ life, but, by 
jing! I believe I’ll take a whirl at it this winter, jest 
fer the sake o’ givin’ you a job. I used to know 
how to run a camp ’long back in the seventies, but 
arter I got my back pension, I quit, an’ hev been 
takin’ it easy sense. D’ye see that bark layin’ out 
thar, jest beyond the coal bunkers? Wall! aboard 
o’ her is an old friend o’ mine* who has a section or 
two over here in Kitsap county, what he wants 
logged. Every logger lie’s seen wants $4 fer puttin’ 
the logs inter Gamble, He’s willin’ to give $3.50 


REX FAILS TO FIND EMPLOYMENT 117 

an’ furnish a camp equipment to some ’sponsible 
party at fa’r appraisal. In fact, he offers, two bull 
teams of eight each, a bang-up assortment o’ 
peevies, saws, wire rope, axes, dogs an’ I don’t 
know what all, at really less’n they’re wuth. I’ve 
got about $4,000 laid by fer my old age, an’ I jest 
about think I kin go inter thet deal an’ make it 
$6,000, ’sides a good livin’ the next year. I’m goin’ 
over ter see him now, an’ if you’ll go in as my right- 
hand business man at $75.00 a month an’ found, I’ll 
hire a Chinee cook an’ a gang o’ men, buy the 
outfit an’ tackle the hull darnd propersition. It’s 
the only lot o’ timber I know of anywhere within 
nice haulin’ distance o’ tide water, an’ if thar’s 
six million feet on it, as he thinks, I kin make good 
money at $3.75. If thar’s eight million feet, as I 
think, I can make a clear $3,000, besides gittin’ my 
money back. We’ll go over an’ feel o’ him, any- 
way. ’ ’ 

Thfey soon reached the vessel and sat down to a 
conference with Mr. Cyrus Bowman of San Francisco. 
He had been an employer of Uncle Festus twenty- 
five years before, and knew him for a competent fore- 
man and one that could be trusted. He appeared 
somewhat surprised and more than pleased, that his 
old friend had finally taken enough interest :n the 
matter to think of undertaking the job himself. 
He had thought of offering to equip him and hire 
him to superintend the camp, but when the old man 
proposed to undertake everything on his own capital, 
Bowman was overjoyed. Uncle Festus was shrewd 
enough to ask him $4 per thousand. He did not 


n8 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

expect to receive more than $3.50. He was there- 
fore not a little pleased when Mr. Bowman took him 
up at $4 and agreed to make a contract that should 
bind him to take the entire equipment off the hands 
of the logger at a price not less than ninety per cent 
of that paid, provided it was maintained and offered 
in good order, within two years of the date of the 
contract. 

“You say you know this section, Estus?” said Mr. 
Bowman. 

“Yes, sir; I logged a piece near it in ’74, when the 
Seabeck mills was r minin’ . This piece ain’t more’n 
three or four mile from what’s left o’ Seabeck to- 
day. I know the lay o’ the ground purty well. I 
hev it all planned how I’m a-goin’ to lay out the 
roads, an’ I kalkerlate ter do it fer about $1750.’’ 

“If you do it for $2500, with the proposition I’ve 
made you, you’ll clean up $2000 or more. How- 
ever, I hope you’ll make more than that. I’ve got 
business elsewhere. I don’t want to bother with 
this last tract of mine up here. I’m winding up my 
operations in this part of the sound as fast as I can. 
That’s the only reason I’m willing to give you this 
fancy price. A man like you, whom I can trust, who 
won’t leave timber he should clean up, and who is 
not only responsible but honest, relieves me of the 
task of watching him and gives me time, worth to 
me and my concern a very pretty figure. I’ll meet 
you at Senator Frank Lewis’ office at nine o’clock 
to-morrow morning and we’ll draw up and sign the 
agreement. If at any time you get strapped and 
can show me roads and preparation worth the 


REX FAILS TO FIND EMPLOYMENT 119 

money, I’ll . advance you eighty per cent of what 
you’ve paid out, to tide you over until the logs are 
scaled. I want to see you go through this thing all 
right.” 

‘‘Oh, I’ll go through it, an’ I’m quite confident 
my pile won’t wear out afore the first million feet 
o’ logs is boomed. However, I’m much obleeged,” 
returned Uncle Festus, cheerfully. The next morn- 
ing the contract was arranged and that evening Uncle 
Festus and Rex advertised in the Times for help, 
while they made preparations to go over on the 
Delta the following morning to locate their camp and 
plan their roads. Mrs. Wayland said very little 
when Rex arrived with the news the first evening, 
for she could hardly credit the fact that this old 
man, whom she had always looked on as a harmless, 
eccentric old character, really had capacity enough 
to run any enterprise of the magnitude of a lumber 
camp. However, as Rex had assured her Mr. Bow- 
man had the greatest confidence in him, and as Rex 
was not given to enthusiasm over any chimerical 
schemes, and was, in fact, more conservative than 
many men of mature years, she decided that she 
must have misjudged his old friend. 


CHAPTER XVI 


SEABECK’s “BUSTED boom” SOME TRUE COUGAR YARNS 

Seabeck is a typical “has been” town of Puget 
Sound. Years ago it was as large as, or larger than 
Seattle. It had its mills, and at its docks ships were 
loaded with lumber for the furthermost ports of the 
world. Yea, more — ships were built there, as many 
as three large vessels building at a time, and the 
land-boomer had high hopes. Why should it not be 
a great city? It had timber lands all about it, a fine 
harbor and splendid mills. Here is the widest portion 
of Hood’s Canal, it being twelve miles across to the 
beach of Taraboo Bay. Directly across to the west 
were the towering Olympics, with their vast stores 
of mineral, lumber and game. The Olympics are 
there yet, but so rough and inaccessible that the 
timber and minerals as well as the game are quite 
likely to remain undisturbed. In fact, the Olympics 
have never been fully explored, and may not be for 
another fifty years. And what of Seabeck? Its 
mills are burned — wiped out by one mammoth fire. 
Its ship building is a story of past days. Its 
stores, hotels and saloons are closed. Its wharves 
are rotted, torredo-eaten and very shaky. From the 
water it looks very attractive even yet, for it is 
beautifully situated, but seven-eighths of the pretty 
little houses that show up so well are vacant. The 
green lawns and spreading fruit trees are neglected. 


120 


SEABECK’S “BUSTED BOOM” 


12 I 


Its business is practically nothing-, all its mail being 
taken up from the wharf in a small hand-bag every 
other day. It ships very little if any fish or oil. 
Its inhabitants have not even enterprise enough to 
go out and shoot the duck, which in season fairly 
cover the waters of its bay. In short, if natural 
decay is not soon arrested, beautiful Seabeck will 
be as Tyre and Sidon of old — a place of barrenness 
and ruin on which fishermen spread their nets to 
dry. 

As the “Delta” swung in toward the town that 
January day, it seemed to Rex he had never seen a 
more beautiful spot. The water all through the 
sheltered bight was of that pretty green so common 
to certain bottoms of the sound. The forest to the 
east, south and north was of softly rounded outline, 
and the entire prospect was in strange contrast with 
the rugged, broken mountains rising up so many 
thousand feet and so abruptly from the opposite 
shore. ‘ ‘ How I wish mother could come over here ! ’ ’ 
was the boy’s first exclamation. 

“So she kin! So she kin!” returned Uncle Festus, 
briskly, as they stepped ashore. “I know she’d 
enjoy it, an’ I can’t see why she shouldn’t kim over 
fer a spell, bymeby. I dunno’s sassiety is quite 
what ’tis over on Queen Anne Hill in Seattle, but 
then, ye must remember that’*s fifty mile er more to- 
ward the effete east.” Uncle Festus did not appear 
to be the same man He was full of business now, 
and had lost that easy gait, so characteristic of the 
loiterer along shore. It really seemed as if he were 
younger by twenty-five years, and his speech was 



ft 





SEABECK’S “BUSTED BOOM 


123 


more decisive and to the point. The announcement 
that he was to open a lumber camp for Bowman 
& Hatch of San Francisco created a considerable stir 
in this sleepy little town. No matter if it was three 
or four miles up the sound. It meant business for 
the store-keeper, for the rancher who had butter or 
“spuds” to sell, for the small boy who caught fish 
for profit as well as pleasure, for the saloon man 
who retailed a very high-priced quality of “mois- 
ture.” The man who was to run that camp was a 
man to cultivate and cater to, and the freedom of 
the city was voted him by every man, woman and 
child. Rex naturally expected to see Uncle Festus’ 
head turned by such attention, but much to his sur- 
prise, the old man was as dignified and coolly 
courteous as any man has a right to be, who has only 
public favor to bestow and asks none in return. He 
gravely refused several offers to “have somethin’ ’ 
at the village bar, and insisted on paying a fair price 
for all he required. To Rex he remarked: “It’s 
alius best in the long run to hold them fellers at 
arm’s length. Ye hire ’em cheaper, ’cause ye give 
’em to understan’ ye intend ter pay ’em in cash fer 
everythin’ they do, an’ air not a ‘store-order’ con 
cern. I don’t intend to pay a cent more fer my men 
or produce than any other camp does, but I’ll pay 
promptly, which is more’n most of ’em do, an’ 
knowin’ they git their money as soon as it’s aimed, 
I’ll git my pick o’ men an’ git good days’ work 
outen ’em.” 

As they started out to inspect the tract, Uncle 
Festus noticed that Rex had left his rifle at the 


124 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


village, and not having brought his own, sent him 
back for it. “If these woods air anything like they 
used ter be, even when Seabeck was boomin’, it’s 
hardly safe to go back far without firearms. Any 
quantity o’ cats on this side o’ the peninsuler^ an’ 
some on ’em’s boosters. A few year ago when I 
was a-workin’ at Gamble, a ten-year-old girl was 
caught up right on the edge o’ the town one night 
an’ carried a consid’able distance by one o’ the 
critters. Some men an’ a dog pressed him purty 
closte, an’ as ’t happened the girl’s dress tore jest as 
he was makin’ a spring up onter a ledge with her, 
she rolled back a-squealin’ like a pig, an’ Mr. Cougar, 
not darin’ to turn back, went on without her. The 
dog finally treed him, but he traveled in the tree 
tops an’ got away. The next mornin’, ’bout day- 
light, he kim ’round fer another try at human game. 
The dogs got after him; he took to a tree, an’ the 
girl’s father shot him. He measured ’bout ten foot 
from nostril to tail- tip, and weighed ’bout two hun- 
dred pound. He wasn’t the biggest one in this neck 
o’ woods, either. I’ve seen ’em nearly eleven foot 
in my time, an’ I hain’t heerd that the breed is 
a-growin’ any smaller. There ain’t bigger cats ner 
more dangerous in the hull state o’ Washington than 
right up back here.” 

“But how about that girl, Uncle Festus? Was 
she badly hurt?” 

“Hardly any. She was clawed a leetle on the 
shoulder whar the beast struck her when he jumped, 
an’ when he gethered up a mouthful of her waist- 
band ter throw her onto his shoulder he also took 


SEABECK’S “BUSTED BOOM 


I2 5 


some flesh, but she was all right agin in a week. 
However, if he’d a had ten minutes alone with her, 
she’d a fared ’bout as a young klootchman did out 
opposite F ulton Creek a few year ago. That one eat 
her all up except her feet, which he left in her shoes. 
Oh, I tell ye, boy! They’re cultus medicine — these 
cats. Only last year — no — ’twas year afore last, two 
fellers was a-huntin’ over near Hona-Hana. One 
went up each side of a ridge an’ ’twas agreed that if 
either heerd the other shoot he was to run over. 
They separated an’ soon one heerd the other shoot. 
He run over an’ as he went heerd another shot. 
He run faster an’ soon come to a place where a fight 
had been, an’ found a gun a-layin’ on the ground. 
He saw nothin’ of his partner, an’ pickin’ up the 
gun was ’bout to go back, when his dogs barked up 
a leanin’ tree. He looked up an’ his blood run cold 
when he see his pardner half torn ter pieces layin’ 
’cross the tree trunk, a big, bloody cat crouchin’ 
jest beyond him, his eyes glitterin’ an’ his ole tail 
a-swishin’. He took keerful aim an’ let ’er go. The 
cat kim down, shot through the lower jaw an’ shoul- 
ders, but he managed to claw the inside works outen 
a dog or two ’fore he died, an’ was a-tryin’ durn 
hard to git his second man, when a bullet atween 
the eyes settled him. I tell ye ! These cats ’round 
here are mighty dangerous. If ever ye shoot at one, 
be sure ye take him atween the eyes er in the ear 
sideways. If ye don’t care to shoot, jest stan’ an’ 
stare at ’em. They rarely jump a feller who stan’s 
his groun’ an’ lets ’em alone. But here we be, at 
the north end o’ our tract,” 


126 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


As Uncle Festus spoke, he stepped to the brink of 
a high bank or ledge which here fell sheer some 
thirty or forty feet to the tide flats. The tide was 
at its full, and set back eastward a quarter of a mile, 
forming what is called along shore a “slew.” The 
tides in the Puget Sound region are much higher 
than the average of other coasts. Along Hood’s 
Canal the change is occasionally as great as eight- 
een or twenty feet, and is often thirteen to fifteen 
feet opposite the delta of the Ducquebush or 
Doseewallops. The wind has much to do with these 
tides. For instance, let a strong “chinooker” blow 
from the south when the tide is going out, 
especially at the right time of the moon, and flats 
and rocks unexposed maybe for years will appear. 
Again, let a tempestuous wind from north or north- 
west blow in the straits of Juan de Fuca for several 
days, and as the tide commences to come in, change 
to the north, continuing its force, there will be a 
tide that is equal to a flood. A tide running like a 
mill-race, and creating “rips” around certain points 
exceedingly dangerous to small craft. 

The canal, as this long arm of the sound is called, 
is not very wide on the average. In many places 
not more than a mile or a mile and a half, and as 
the water rushes in or out when tides are moving, it 
creates a current in such narrow channels not 
unlike that of a mighty river. The most wonderful 
exhibition of this kind in the world is at Deception 
Pass, at the north end of Whidby Island and between 
it and Fidalgo. Here few steamers, if indeed any 
craft afloat, can stem a tide, and going through with 


SEABECK’S “BUSTED BOOM” 


127 


one is an experience as exciting- as the running of 
the St. Lawrence rapids. It is therefore a most 
desirable harbor or booming-place along the canal 
that lies within projecting bluff points; i. e . , an 
indentation east or west. Such an indentation was 
now before them. The points were not over a half- 
mile apart, but they were bold, and the ridges they 
formed did not come together until the slew had 
narrowed to fifty yards or less. Here there was a 
slight fall of water at low tide, and farther back was 
an insignificant run or swale. This water-course, 
as they found, extended back to the east line of the 
lot they were to log, and all this lot, which was a 
quarter section and two forties (240 acres) was 
drained by it. This lot, too, was tolerably level. 
That is to say, there were no precipitous grades, 
and even to a novice like Rex. it was apparent that 
one main road right back up the run, with lateral 
roads north and south, would cover the entire lot. 
This was a most fortunate circumstance, for in 
lumbering in so rough a country as Washington, the 
advantageous lay of the land on any lot or lots is 
an important item. 

“I kalkerlate I kin put them roads in fer frum 
$300 to $500 less’n what I could on any other lot o’ 
that size I ever see,” remarked Uncle Festus, as 
after a tour of the lots they sat down near the beach 
to draw apian of the roads. This tramp, which had 
been in a sense an inspection and estimate of the 
timber, had taken considerable time, and they found 
the tide at its lowest on their return. “Do ye see 
how sharp that bluff is on both sides o’ this bay? 


1 28 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


It’s straight up an’ down clean up to the slew on 
both sides an’ flat enough on top, so we kin make 
a road along either side or both. Even at low 
tide there’s enough water in the bay to move a 
log about, an’ there won’t be any gittin’ up in the 
night to move logs, so as to take advantage o’ 
the tides. No; I’m s’prised that this piece ain’t 
never ben logged afore an’ I’m s’prised, too, that 
Bowman was willin’ to give me $4 fer loggin’ this 
off.” 

“I’ve an idea you won’t find $4 any too much 
before you are through with the job,” said Rex, 
quietly. 

“Why? Ain’t that a big price? Ain’t this an 
easy lot?” 

“Yes; it’s a big price for these times, but these 
hard times are not going to last. Since you’ve been 
talking of logging and have given me such a splen- 
did chance, I’ve been looking into all sides of 
the business, and I find lumber and logs in this 
region to be slowly on the rise. Logs that a year 
ago were worth only $4.50 at the mills are now 
worth $5 and $6. We are in the first month of ’96. 
I predict that one year from next April logs will be 
worth $8, and labor consequently demanding more. 
Do you see the point — how good times will work 
against you?” 

“I do,” said the old man thoughtfully, “an’ it’s a 
p’int I might not a grabbed onter. I’m thinkin’ 
you’ll not be a deadhead in this enterprise, as Jim 
Blaine uster say. This tip you jest gin me is wuth 
half a year’s salary, fer it warns me to git in all the 


SEABECK’S “BUSTED BOOM” 


129 


men I kin an’ push things while labor is cheap. 
The fust thing is a camp, an’ I’ll begin that to-mor- 
rer mornin’,” 


CHAPTER XVII 


REX SECURES SOME “DOMESTIC HELP” UNCLE FESTUS 

SURPRISED 

The morning following Uncle Festus and Rex 
separated at Seabeck, the former to go to the lots 
with a gang of men and build a camp, the latter to 
go by steamer to Seattle to bring back certain 
needed supplies and such desirable men as might 
have answered the advertisement. 

“Now, boy,” Uncle Festus had said the night 
before, “I’m a-goin’ ter throw more responsibility 
onto ye than is usual with boys, an’ green ones at 
that, but I don’t kalkerlate I’ll miss it any. I notice 
ye’re willin’ ter take advice an’ ye air inclined to 
look inter a thing ’fore ye take hold on it, an’ that’s 
the reason I’m goin’ ter send ye to Seattle ter buy 
the first grub stake. I expect ye’ll git stuck ’bout 
$50, but I’m goin’ ter try ye jest the same. Here is 
the list about as we talked it, only as I* ve concluded 
ter put on a double gang an’ push things, ye’ve got 
ter increase it from fifty to seventy-five per cent. 
The only hint I’ve got ter give ye, is this: ye’re 
goin’ with cash in yer fist an’ we’ve no favors ter 
ask o’ these dealers. Make ’em sell ye right. Take 
yer time an’ git ’em down where ye think they orter 
be. You’ll hev ter wait here an hour or two fer the 
boat, but I’m off fer the lot. I’m takin’ seven men 
back with me from Seabeck here, ye know, an’ I 

130 


REX SECURES SOME “DOMESTIC HELP” 131 

want about twenty more about a week from next 
Tuesday mornin’. To-day’s Wednesday. You kim 
back here^a week from next Tuesday the boat 
comes up — an’ I’ll hev accommodations fer thirty 
men, the sixteen bulls an’ three horses we expect. 
I’ll also hev the hay purchased an’ delivered, so ye 
needn’t bother about that. You’ll find I’m a pusher 
in the woods or at makin’ a camp. You’ll naterally 
think I’m a-givin’ you a snap when I give ye ten 
days or more to hire twenty-five men an’ buy sup- 
plies, but I expect ye’re a-goin’ to shop, m'y boy. 
‘Shoppin’ ’ is the word. Figger right down close. 
What ye save is as good as twice aimed. Don’t buy 
cheap labor or cheap goods, ’less’n they be reely an’ 
truly cheap. It don’t pay. On t’other hand, don’t 
let any one git any fancy prices outen ye. You may 
send me ten keg o’ nails an’ spikes, a half-dozen 
hammers an’ that list o’ axes, adz, saws an’ so on, 
as I’ve made out here. I shall be splittin’ shakes 
the first two days, but after that I want these, so 
send ’em on the first boat. Now good-by, boy. 
Use yer head an’ let’s see what kind of a purchasin’ 
agent ye be. Give yer- mother my best regards,” 
and with a wave of the hand he trotted off. 

Rex rushed back to the house for his rifle, and 
returning with it, struck a similar trot down the 
beach. It looked as if he intended enjoying a short 
hunt before the boat came, but such was not his 
object. He had seen a lumber camp a mile or two 
north as he rode up on the steamer, and he now 
intended to hurry down and gather some information 
while waiting. The tide was low, and the beach 




REX SECURES SOME “DOMESTIC HELP” 133 

furnished a tolerably clear trail. He was swift of 
foot, and just as the steamer rounded Black Point 
from out the Ducquebush for Brinnon, some eight 
or ten miles across, opposite Seabeck, he had reached 
the camp in question and had a good two hours 
before the boat would arrive. Rex was always ready 
in making acquaintances, and in fifteen minutes he 
had the foreman of the camp talking as if he had 
known him all his life. This camp was a model in 
its way, being that of one of the largest mill com- 
panies on the sound, and the next two hours were 
well put in by this keen-witted boy. He could only 
see one fault in the management, and that was in 
the cook-house, where a greasy, slouchy negro pre- 
sided, aided by another and smaller African equally 
greasy, dirty and slouchy. “There’s a hundied 
dollars a month wasted right there,” mused Rex. 
“Two good smart women at half the pay, would set 
things out in better shape and at far less expense.” 
He spoke out to this effect and was somewhat sur- 
prised to find that the foreman agreed with him. He 
declared, however, it was unavoidable, for the reason 
that women who would live amid such surroundings 
were generally as untidy as the men. Rex was so 
interested in this important branch of the business 
that he did not signal the steamer, but decided to 
accept an invitation to stay to early dinner and later 
walk across the peninsula by a rough trail to Silver- 
dale over on the east side. All that day he pondered 
on some method of obviating this waste. On his 
arrival at Seattle he ordered his bill of hardware, 
and having shipped it to “Camp Estus, ” Hood’s 


134 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


Canal, took a car for home, where he found his 
mother unusually anxious to see him. 

The poor woman had never been so lonesome, and 
while she did not wish to do or say anything that 
should deter Rex from his undertaking, found it 
exceedingly difficult to be at all cheerful. It had 
always been Rex^s custom to talk over all his plans 
with his mother, and he found her at this time par- 
ticularly interested. She listened attentively and 
offered many suggestions that proved her a woman 
of an exceedingly strong business turn. His narra- 
tion of the waste at the camp he had visited seemed 
to impress her more than all else, and after their 
evening dinner, while Rex was at his figures and 
calculations, she sat for a long time in deep medita- 
tion. As he finally finished, she asked : 

“Rex, how much is it going to cost us to run this 
establishment while you are away?” 

“Why, mother, I haven’t figured on that. I want 
you to have a girl for company, and I shall come 
over at least once a week. I presume $50 a month 
or a little more will cover it.” 

“Isn’t that worth saving, Rex?” 

“Why, yes; but I don’t see how it can be saved. 
You’ve got to live, mother, and I want you to live 
well. That is one reason why I am branching out 
in this business. I don’t care what hardships I 
undergo, so long as you are having an easy time of 
it.’’ 

The little woman sat silent for a time, her lips 
trembling and her eyes brimming with tears. 
Finally the tears forced their way and ran down over 


REX SECURES SOME “DOMESTIC HELP” 135 


her cheeks. This devotion, this unselfish regard for 
her, touched her mother’s heart, and even as she 
wept, she was probably at that minute as proud a 
mother as could be found in all the city. She finally 
arose, and walking over to Rex’s chair, knelt down 
beside it, and taking his face between her hands, 
kissed him just as she used to when he was a child. 
Then, holding his head away, she looked him in the 
eyes very steadily, the tears flowing faster than 
ever. 

“Why, mother, you won’t mind my leaving you, 
will you? I mean to make you just as comfortable 
as ever. I’m sorry I can’t get something to do here 
in Seattle so as to be with you, but in these times it 
does n’t seem possible. I’ll be at home as often as I 
can, and you won’t be so very lonely?’’ 

His evident distress affected her more than ever, 
and strive as she would, her agitation momentarily 
increased. By a great effort, however, she finally 
managed to regain her composure, and resumed her 
chair. Here she sat looking very sad and penitent, 
and finally, in a pitiful little voice, exclaimed: “I’m 
afraid, Rex, I’m not much of a Spartan. I’ve cer- 
tainly no excuse for such conduct, because I know 
it’s childish and unreasonable.’’ 

“No, mother; you’re not unreasonable. I under- 
stand you if other people might not, and I know this 
to be an evidence of your great love for me. I love 
you all the better for it.’’ 

“Well, there! If you understand me, Rex, I’m 
glad I had my cry. I always feel better afterward. 
I’m all right now. I have a plan. I was afraid to 


i 3 6 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


mention it, but, Rex — it’s — it’s a real good one. 
You won’t laugh at me if I tell it?” 

‘‘Laugh at you? Well, I guess not. I’d like to 
see the man that would. ’ ’ 

‘‘Rex, I want to go with you to the logging 
camp. ” 

‘‘What! Great Scott, mother! You don’t know 
what you’re asking. Do you realize that we shall 
live in a shake-house not as good as our shed out 
here? A house built of green shakes and puncheon? 
It’s terribly wild out there, too, mother. Right 
next the beach. The waves beat and thunder night 
and day, and the great, gloomy forest, with all kinds 
of wild animals in it, comes right down to the 
shore. ’ ’ 

“I guess there won’t be any royal Bengal* tigers, 
anacondas or lions,” said she, smiling mischievously. 

“There’ll be cougar or mountain lion, and they’re 
as bad, mother.” 

“I can risk all that, Rex, for after I get there I 
shan’t go roaming about any. You and Mr. Estus can 
build me a little pen somewhere that I can live in, 
and where I can see you often. You must remem- 
ber, Rex, that you’re the only living relative I have. 
But that isn’t the only reason I have for wanting 
to go. I can be of great use to you and your 
employer. Small as I am, you know that I am a 
good manager, and that I can do more work than 
most women twice my size. I pride myself par- 
ticularly on my management. You know I’ve always 
managed help that no one else could. Now, why 
could I not go over to that camp, taking with me a 


REX SECURES SOME “DOMESTIC HELP” 137 


couple of good girls, and do the same work that 
three big, greasy men will be paid twice as much 
for doing? You say you’re going to run a double 
gang of thirty or forty men. Well! Even with one 
girl I could cook for that many, and with two good 
girls I can run things to suit you and fold my hands 
half the time. Come, now, Rex” — here she assumed 
a comical look, even while tears glistened in her 
eyes — “geev yo’r pore moother a yob! Yaas!” 

Her Swedish accent was so perfect and her 
gestures so comical, that Rex burst into loud laugh- 
ter, and when she stared at him as solemn as an owl 
and added, “I save yo heap moanee, I veree yonest, 
yaas!” he could only laugh the harder and exclaim, 
“Mother! you’re a born comedian.” 

“No, but I’m a born cook, and I’m going to close 
up this house and go with you. If Mr. Estus won’t 
pay me, I’ll do the work for my board, and we’ll be 
ahead then, for we certainly won’t ha ye house rent 
or grocery or fuel bills to pay. Say ‘yes,’ Rex! 
Quick!” 

“Yes, Mother, but how in the world you’re ever 
going to live through it, I’m sure I don’t see.” 

“I’ll show you, young man. Go to bed now and 
rest, for I shall wake you early. We must go down 
town and purchase all those supplies to-morrow.” 

Rex arose at five o’clock the following morning, 
that he might have time to write to Uncle Festus 
and catch the seven o’clock boat. He detailed 
progress, and wound up with these words: “I wish 
to inform you that I shall bring a widow lady and 
two smart Swede girls to cook for us, in place of the 


138 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

colored or Chinee help you mentioned. I shall hire 
the girls at about half or two-thirds what male help 
would cost, and as for the widow lady, she allows 
you to name your own price. I know she is a good 
cook, for I have eaten her cookery all my life. 
Her name is Mrs. Margaret Wayland. ” 

“Gee Whilikins!” was the old man’s comment 
when he read this letter. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A MODEL LOGGING CAMP DESCRIBED 

To say that Rex was surprised at the transforma- 
tion when he reached Camp Estus would be to put it 
mildly. He was amazed. What looked like a small 
village stood in a sheltered spot on the bluff. From 
this cluster of buildings was a clean-cut path through 
the brush to the edge of the bank and leading down 
from it was a wide pair of steps. These were 
fastened to small piles at the bottom, where floated a 
platform some twenty-five feet square, with a small 
cabin upon it, for the reception of supplies in rainy 
weather. This platform rose and fell with the tide 
and extended out far enough so that even at low 
tide a steamer could draw up alongside. A large 
four-oared whaleship tender was tied to one of the 
piles and as the steamer drew up, Uncle Festus 
carefully pulled this in out of the way. 

“Quite a boat ye got there, Mr. Festus,” called out 
a deck hand. 

“Mr. Estus, if it pleases ye,” said the old man with 
great dignity, at the same time raising his hat to 
Mrs. Wayland, who was leaning over the rail. 
“Yes,” he assented, “I kalkerlate that’s one o’ the 
best an’ safest boats along shore anywhere, but it’s 
none too good fer the best camp of ’em all. Any 
camp what’s got ladies in it ought to hev a good 
boat. That’s why I sent fer this one.” 

139 


140 REX WAY LAND’S FORTUNE 

“I guess you’re going to feed your men, Mr. 
Estus, judgin’ from the grub we’ve got aboard fer 
you,” called out Captain Troutman. 

“Them’s the intentions, Cap’n. They won’t be 
any blanket trail runnin’ in an’ out this camp.” At 
this there was a general laugh, for it is a well-known 
fact that many camps keep the trails to and from 
the beach well worn by the feet of half-starved 
workmen, who come in, stand the fare as long as 
they can and then, shouldering their blankets, 
depart. By this time the gang-plank was down, and 
Mrs. Wayland, accompanied by two blooming Swede 
girls, stepped ashore. The whole party stood for a 
moment watching the deck-hands roll and set out 
the barrels of flour, sugar, pork and beans, the 
boxes of dried fruits, bags of oatmeal, rice and mill 
feed, together with a whole beef in quarters. Nearly 
a dozen stalwart workmen had followed down to the 
landing. Uncle Festus gave them directions as to 
the storehouse, and then, turning to the ladies, 
invited them to the house. “You kin come too, if ye 
wanter, ” he continued, addressing Rex, who, in 
open-mouthed wonder, stood looking at the collec- 
tion of buildings, literally split, hewed and chopped 
out of the standing growth of forest within ten 
days. “What d’ye think of my shake shanties, 
boyee? Ain’t I an arkytec allee same as a builder?” 

“Well! I should say, Uncle Festus. How in the 
world did you ever do all this in so short a time?” 

“Oh! easy enough, although I didn’t do it with 
seven men. After you went that day, we set to 
work a-cuttin’ an’ splitdn’ shakes an’ puncheon. 



141 


142 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


Also gittin’ out the poles for timbers. ’Fore noon, 
a gang o’ five Swedes kim along an’ struck me fer 
a ‘yob. ’ They seemed good, likely fellows, an’ I 
tole ’em it was a stiddy yob when the big boss 
come, if they worked well. Ye ought a seen ’em 
hustle; an’ they’re handy, too. One on ’em made 
that there fire-place and chimney outen stun from 
that there ledge, an’ he swars it’s stun what won’t 
crack, too. I’ve sent fer some lime, an’ he’s a-goin’ 
to make mortar an’ pint it up. Don’t need much 
pintin’ up, however. Ye can’t throw no cat through 
a wall that feller puts up. But as the auction crier 
says, ‘Come in! Come in!’ ” 

The nearest building was fifty feet long and fully 
thirty wide. But one story in height, it looked very 
odd. Uncle Festus pulled a latch-string and ushered 
the party into a room about twelve feet deep and 
thirty feet wide. At the east end was an open grate 
stove, which he explained came with a half-dozen 
other stoves in the Bowman outfit. Near this stove 
was an excellent desk with pigeon-holes, and across 
from it sat a large safe, in which Uncle Festus 
seemed to take great pride. He declared “they 
wusn’t a bigger safe’n that in some cities.’’ The 
other half of this long room was entirely occupied 
with racks and receptacles for axes, saws, peavies, 
files, chains, wire rope, hooks, etc. The old gentle- 
man gravely informed Rex that this collection he 
would have charge of, and that no man could take 
one without a written order, which stood as a charge 
against him until the return of the tool. 

Directly opposite the entrance was another door, 


A MODEL LOGGING CAMP DESCRIBED * 143 

which Uncle Festus threw open with a flourish, dis- 
closing a room about fifteen feet square, at the side 
of which was a rude, but very attractive, fire-place, 
with big andirons which had been resurrected from 
somewhere. “This is the council room, whar the 
staff will set an’ consider ways an’ means, while 
they toast their shins. This next is the ladies’ 
budwares, although I ain’t had time ter git in the 
Lewy Nineteenth furnitoor. These beds are all thet 
come an’ they ain’t quite what I wish they was, 
but we kin git some funny-diddles fer ’em an’ then 
they’ll do.’’ 

The “budwares’’ in question were four bedrooms, 
each furnished with a bed, a wash-stand and a small 
stove. Two of these rooms, those for Rex and his 
mother, were side by side at the west of the main 
room. From this room, extending south, was a 
passage-way, on one side of which was Uncle Festus’ 
room, and on the other a room for the girls. Next 
the girls’ room was a large pantry and store-room, 
and across from it was the kitchen or cook-room. 
The dining-room, or “grub-hall,’’ was fifteen feet by 
thirty. A door at the farther side served for the 
ingress and egress of the men, and a long table 
permitted the feeding of from thirty to forty men at 
a time. Rex, his mother, and Uncle Festus were to 
eat at another table in the room where the fire-place 
was, which was, in fact, a sort of family sitting and 
reading room. The floors of this as well as other 
buildings were of puncheon — logs split about four 
inches thick and hewed to a joint at the edges. 
This as well as all other buildings was in every sense 


144 ' REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

hewed or split from growing trees. Its shake sides 
and roof and its puncheon floors were from cedar. 
Its pole frame was from spruce, cut, mortised and 
joined with pins and spikes. So far as proportion 
was concerned, no carpenter could have done better 
with the best of materials, but of course all the build- 
ings were very rough. 

The bunk hall, just south of the main building, 
was larger on the ground. It was heated by a huge 
iron stove, standing in the center of the room, and 
around the outside of this big room were the bunks 
or racks for the men. These racks were similar to 
those seen in any colonist sleeper, though more 
roughly made, and each occupant furnished his own 
bedding, lugging it into camp on his back, as is the 
custom. This building had bunks for thirty-six 
men. The largest building of all was the “bull 
barn” or stables. There were sixteen of these great 
oxen, not one of which would girt less than eight 
feet, just back of the shoulders, and there were three 
horses, or rather a mule team and one horse. The 
horse was a saddle-pony for use in running errands. 
The mules could be worked in team or singly, and 
were very handy to snake out small pieces of timber. 
Of course, a large stable was needed. It must 
contain roomy stalls, sufficient space to store fifteen 
or twenty tons of hay on a pinch, and have room not 
only for grain or mill feed boxes, but a passage way 
down the center. The stable here erected was one 
hundred by thirty feet. Then there was a storehouse 
for provisions, and a blacksmith shop with its sling 
or rack for hoisting up Oxen while being shod. 


A MODEL LOGGING CAMP DESCRIBED 145 


There was a commodious spring or wash-house 
where the men could wash their clothing. Finally, 
there was the saw-filing shed, with its long clamps for 
holding saws and its big grindstone for sharpening 
edged tools. 

As Uncle Festus had stated, he had twelve experi- 
enced and capable men besides himself. Rex had 
brought up nineteen more together with the women, 
making thirty-three in all not including the two 
bosses. Both Rex and Uncle Festus had been very 
particular in their selection of men and there was not 
a poor stick among them. 

The average logger is but a grade above the com- 
mon sailor, and in most camps there is no encour- 
agement to be otherwise. It is possible, however, 
to choose help. A new camp starting out under 
good auspices, and conducted on a cash basis, has 
no difficulty in taking such men as it may want from 
the older and more poorly managed camps. The 
best men are always those who have the most self- 
respect, and who are neat and tidy in appearance. 
Such men prefer a new camp, because of new, clean 
buildings. Camp Estus was also offering fifteen- 
day payments in cash. This attracted the best men 
from the mills and camps running “company” stores, 
and paying in “cats and dogs” instead of cash. The 
modus operandi of logging in Washington is so 
different from that in vogue elsewhere that a detailed 
description may prove interesting. 


CHAPTER XIX 


^JOW THEY LOG IN WASHINGTON “UNCLE, ANGELINE’s 

dead” 

Logging is the principal business of the great 
Puget Sound region, and nowhere else in the world 
is it such an exact science. It should first be borne 
in mind that the average product of each acre of 
timber in this region is at least twice that of any 
other section on account of the great height and size 
of the trees. The average product guaranteed to 
purchasers of timber land in this region is often 
sixty thousand feet per acre and generally little 
below that, while from some particular sections such 
cuts have been made as are beyond belief. On the 
lot to be logged by Camp Estus experienced loggers 
had estimated seventy thousand feet per acre, but 
this Uncle Festus hardly hoped for, until he came to 
“cruise” it. At the outset, he and Mr. Bowman had 
figured on but one hundred and sixty acres or a 
quarter section, but the day before the contract was 
cosummated, a company owning eighty acres to -the 
northeast, had decided to accept an offer of Bowman 
& Hatch for the logs, and the contract had been 
made to cover two hundred and forty acres. Lum- 
bermen always aim to log as large a tract as possible 
from one camp, and this was good news. 

Now that the camp was ready, roads must be put 
in, a task requiring experience and excellent judg- 

146 


HOW THEY LOG IN WASHINGTON 


147 


ment. Uncle Festus and Rex had hired only the 
best of men, but to none of these would the old 
gentleman intrust the laying out of roads. The 
proper lay-out of these roads meant a saving of 
possibly $ 1,000 or $2,000. Armed with a light axe, 
Uncle Festus started out, making his way directly 
through the center of the lot, toward the rear, “ blaz- 
ing” or hewing marks on the trees as he went. To 
the inexperienced, he seemed at times following a 
devious course, for he crossed the run at intervals 
and bore to the north or south, but the “swampers” 
decided “the old man knew his biz,” for the reason 
that they found no important fills or cuts and no 
up-hill hauls. That is to say, this main road, as 
planned, was all the way down-hill toward the 
beach. At one dr two places he was obliged to 
blaze out a double road, or two roads side by side, 
to avoid a rise in the lateral or branch roads. The 
first day he picked his way and blazed this road clear 
to the further line, a distance of nearly a mile as the 
bird flies and with its windings much more. After 
him came three swampers, who cut down and 
dragged to one side the small growth. These were 
cut anywhere handiest, from the ground to three 
feet up. Close behind came a gang of six “grub- 
bers” with roothooks, grubbing axes, ordinary axes 
and saws. After these, six men with hand-spikes, 
peavies and other tools, and a team of four oxen 
driven by one man, assisted by a hook tender or 
chain man. Next came a gang of six with picks, 
shovels, spades, etc. The swampers cut and dragged 
to one side all growth up to four inches. The axe 




HOW THEY LOG IN WASHINGTON 


149 


and saw men cut off all trees, sawing such as were 
large enough into logs — no log less than eighteen 
inches in diameter at the top is received at the 
mills — the smaller trees into skids or cross-pieces 
for the roads. The grubbers cut off the roots of 
the stumps at the ground or dug beneath, as 
might be necessary, the chain men or hook tenders 
fastened the team to the log or stump that was to be 
twitched out, or if the stump proved too large it was 
left for a gang that was yet to come. This gang 
carried dynamite, for blowing these stumps into 
fragments. One man was responsible for all the 
dynamite work, and he had an assistant. The two 
kept a little ahead of the shovel men or graders, and 
the explosions they caused at intervals fairly shook 
the ground. Not only stumps, but rocks were 
shattered. The number of bridges or trestles that 
it was found necessary to build across the run was 
very small, so well had the road been planned, and 
when finished it was as smooth as a house floor, 
with no curves worth mentioning, and all stumps at 
the sides hewed down or slanted so that it was 
impossible for any log in a long string to catch and 
stop the teams. Last of all came six men with a 
pair of mules. Two of these men, with picks, dug 
shallow trenches across the road every four or six 
feet, and into these two others laid the short logs cut 
for that purpose. After being put in, these were 
packed or stamped tightly in place. Two men, each 
with an adz, smoothed off the top, making the 
middle of the stick a little lower than the ends; a 
man with a bucket of grease smeared these cross- 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


150 

pieces with a paddle of wood, after which the road 
was ready. 

It will thus be seen that every man was used 
to advantage, and that the work went rapidly 
forward. At the end of the first three days, the 
main road had been pushed back a quarter of a mile 
and then the construction of the lateral or branch 
roads, to the north and south, was commenced. The 
putting on of twenty-eight men at the roads the first 
week, gave them such a start that early the follow- 
ing week the cutting and hauling was begun. 
Meanwhile a blacksmith and his assistant had been 
putting the tools in order; oxen and mules had 
been shod, harness had been mended, goads made, 
and rope spliced. The blacksmith of a logging 
camp must be a man of versatility, as he is called 
upon to work in iron, wire and wood. Most black- 
smiths would be at a loss if called on to splice wire 
rope, yet the competent logging blacksmith does it, 
and if asked, blocks out, finishes up and irons an ox 
yoke, or sews a bit of harness. He knows the 
proper temper for each tool, and his welds are as 
strong as the original iron. He can sling up and 
shoe a refractory ox or horse without fuss, and if 
one is sick, he knows as much about doctoring him 
as the teamster. He may know how to drive, but 
there he draws the line. He may criticise, in fact, 
always does criticise, the driving freely, but he 
never drives, and is probably wise in his conserva- 
tism. The art of driving a team of eight to twelve 
oxen, horses or mules and making all pull together, 
is one that but few men possess, and a first-class 


HOW THEY LOG IN WASHINGTON 


1 5 I 

teamster is therefore a valuable and high-priced 
man. There were two in Camp Estus, both good 
men, each jealous of the other, each claiming to be 
the better man, each receiving $100 per month and 
board. One made the “shent” hauls to the main road, 
the other took the string to tide water, and while 
they should have worked well together, both taxed the 
patience of their employers by constant bickerings. 
The “fallers” were another pair of aristocrats, in their 
line, each receiving $80 per month and board. They 
were not worked so close together that they must 
needs conflict, yet one was constantly passing criti- 
cism on the other, and if one happened to break two 
trees in a day, the other never ceased picking at him 
until he was equally unfortunate. This rivalry was 
really a good thing for the camp, for it insured careful 
falling. The talent these men possess is wonderful, 
when the size, weight and brittle character of the 
great trees is considered. A first-class faller cal- 
culates to six inches the distance to the right or left of 
the place he will lay a tree, and notching out his scarf 
puts his men at the proper side, while the rest of his 
gang are preparing a bed of brush or small trees, 
that shall ease the fall of the giant. A scarf once 
cut, the long saw is set across, and soon the monster 
fir is seen to wave at the top. That is a moment 
of anxiety to the faller, for a little too deep a cut of 
the saw on either side may send the great tree several 
feet to the right or left of the place he has calculated 
on. It must be remembered that these trees are 
from three to twelve feet in diameter, hold their size 
well, and are from one hundred and seventy-five to 


152 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


three hundred and twenty-five feet in height. They 
yield all the way from one thousand five hundred to 
twelve thousand feet each, and a break, where long 
sticks may be desired, is bad business. So accurate 
is the calculation of these fallers, that many will work 
an entire season with only two or three bad breaks 
to his charge. The fall of one of these monsters is 
a grand sight, and one never to be forgotten. The 
blow on the face of old Earth seems to make the 
ground quake for a half-mile around, and the down- 
ward sweep through the air causes a disturbance 
among the lesser growth like unto a small hurricane. 

After the faller and his gang come the “rossers,” 
or barkers, with their axes, to clear away the debris 
and peel off the thick bark from the log. At some 
seasons this bark, from three to eight inches thick, 
sticks very tight, and this job of rossing is an 
important part of the expense. Following these 
men are the cutters, or saw men. There are 
generally four of these to each gang of fallers. 
They are followed by the team and hook tenders, 
and these by the “greaser,” dodging about here and 
there with his pail of dog fish oil or petroleum. 
This grease is applied in such quantities that it 
looks like waste, but without it, to move the long 
strings of great logs would be impossible. A 
single log six feet or more in diameter and thirty 
feet long could not well be moved on ground or 
skids, by even these great teams, were it not for 
this grease. Aided by it, however, from five to 
eight logs are moved at a haul, and from five 
thousand to ten thousand feet taken down. 


HOW THEY LOG IN WASHINGTON 


153 


Working two gangs of fallers, two teams, and with 
plenty of men everywhere, Camp Estus was a busy 
place, and within thirty days was so well organized 
that from 60,000 to 80,000 feet of logs rolled into the 
bay every day. During the first two months nearly 
3,000,000 feet were boomed, and owing to careful 
calculations and favorable circumstances, the camp 
was clearing from $50 to $75 per day. The $5,000 
Uncle Festus had hoped to make during the year, 
seemed more likely to be $15,000, and everything 
was as prosperous as the most ambitious could wish. 
Mrs. Wayland had never been so healthy in her life, 
and had certainly suffered no discomfort. She did 
not miss the society of the city half as much as she 
had expected to, especially, as accompanied by 
Rex, Uncle Festus and the girls, she had gone by 
boat and afoot across to church. Rex had developed 
into an excellent man of business, purchasing all 
supplies and hiring all the men. Mrs. Wayland 
accompanied him to Seattle occasionally, and found 
the trips charming, as trips up and down the Sound 
always are. Both were very happy, for they were 
earning and saving. Uncle Festus had insisted on 
raising Rex’s pay from $75 to $90, and Mrs. Way- 
land’s from $25 to $35, when he saw how things were 
turning out, making for the two $125 per month, and 
board. Out of this they were saving $100 per month 
and calculated at the end of the year to have a fund 
that would put Rex well on his way through school. 
Rex had at first spent some of his evenings studying 
Spanish, but latterly the study had been neglected, 
and he was fully engrossed in the logging business. 


J S4 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


One day, however, the “Delta” brought up the 
papers, and as Rex sat down on the wharf to read 
the “P. I.,” he saw a heading: “Princess Angeline 
Dead!” He hastily read the article, and crushing 
the paper in his hand, started on a run for the woods 
where Uncle Festus was superintending operations. 
As he scurried up the logging road, leaping from one 
cross-piece to another, he met the old man. “Uncle 
Festus, Angeline is dead!” 

“Is that so? Wall, I’m durn sorry. Poor ole 
soul; how did she die?” 

“I don’t know that; but what about the book? 
Can’t I go and get that diary now?” 

The old man mused a minute, and then said 
slowly: “Why, I don’t see any reason why ye 
shouldn’t. Yes; I think I would. I’d be kinder 
secret about it, though.” 

“Trust me for that,” said Rex, as he handed the 
newspaper to the old man and bounded away. 


CHAPTER XX 


REX SECURES THE DIARY AND HAS A THRILLING ADVEN- 
TURE WITH A COUGAR 

So great was his anxiety to start across the penin- 
sula that Rex was half inclined to leave his rifle 
behind, but as he did not dare go near “Old Man 
House” before nightfall anyway, he had plenty of 
time to make that twelve miles, as it was now but 
2 145. He did not care to come back in the darkness 
without arms, so he concluded to go for the weapon. 
His mother came in as he was putting his cartridge 
belt about him, and to her inquiry as to where he 
was bound, he replied that he was going out toward 
Seabeck, on toward Lone Rock, and might go across 
to Silverdale and beyond, but would be back by bed- 
time. Mrs. Wayland thought nothing of this, as it 
was his habit to occasionally take a stroll along 
toward night, and asked: “Which way are you com- 
ing back, Rex?” 

“I’ll come right up along shore from Lone Rock, 
mother. ’’ 

“All right; don’t be too late and maybe I’ll come 
out and meet you. ” 

“Well, if you do, come right down to the rock, but 
don’t come over into the woods. I’ll try and get 
back to the rock a little before dusk, but if I’m 
not there before, don’t wait. Go to Sergius’ cabin. 
I’ll call there for you on my way back. Good-by.” 

155 


156 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

Rex saw nothing worth a shot on his way across, - 
and at six o’clock was hidden in the bushes fringing 
the shore back of Agate Passage. No one was in 
sight. The Siwash of the reservation were probably 
back upon the hill picking berries. He could hear 
their voices. There was no need to wait until after 
dark. He would slip down and dig up the box. If 
any one came he could easily fill in the cache and 
smooth it over before they reached him. As his 
fingers touched the box, he lifted and shook it. The 
book was inside, and with hands a trifle tremulous 
and heart beating a bit fast, he pulled the box 
apart, took out the precious book, deposited it in his 
pocket, and replacing the box, started up the beach 
toward a branch leading to the main trail. Alone, 
he sat down and took a look at his treasure, becoming 
so much interested he was unaware of the approach 
of night until he began to experience difficulty in 
tracing the letters. Then he picked up his rifle and 
started on a trot toward home. 

As he ascended the divide, the light grew 
stronger, and with flying leaps he made rapid time 
down toward the canal beach. However, it was 
nightfall before he came to the first opening where 
he could see the water, shining up with that dull 
after-sunset glow through the tree-tops. He was 
walking now across a flat, and suddenly he smelled 
fresh blood and the odor of the viscera of some 
animal. Stopping, he found himself standing within 
four feet of the remains of a fawn. The blood was 
yet warm, and so were the scant remains. This 
tragedy of the woods had occurred since he passed 



158 


REX WAYLAND'S FORTUNE 


that way — probably a half-hour or less before. This 
looked like cougar work, and in all probability he 
had scared them from their repast. Yes; it was 
cougar, and that there were two or three of them he 
was quite sure, for there in the swale, running right 
across the trail one hundred and fifty feet beyond, he 
found three tracks. One was very large. The 
others smaller. All were of good size, however, and 
he conjectured that either an old cat with two kittens 
or a male with two female followers was lurking 
about. “Looks more like a tom and two tabbies by 
the size of the tracks, ’ ’ he muttered as he pumped a 
cartridge into the barrel of his 40-82 Winchester and 
pushed two or three more into the magazine. He 
now stepped slowly along, looking to the right and 
left with a creepy feeling, hardly knowing from 
which quarter to expect to see a monster cat flying 
at him through the air. It was about five hundred 
yards to the beach, and as he finally emerged from 
the deeper shadow of the big woods, he felt relieved. 
He was no coward, but no man, no matter how 
brave, ever feels easy in the vicinity of these terrible 
animals. He was within three hundred yards of the 
beach now and rapidly nearing it, when through and 
across the low brush he saw a sight that made him 
more creepy than ever. The after-glow rendered 
objects between the water and the low bluff quite 
clear. In fact, his mother’s head and shoulders from 
where she sat on a drift log near the beach stood 
out in a distinct silhouette. The distinctness of the 
dearly loved object was so startling that he paused 
for an instant and gazed steadily. At this instant 


REX SECURES THE DIARY 


J 59 


she turned her head slightly and the delicate profile 
stood out, even at that distance of two hundred 
yards, as clearly as the reeds and twigs down nearer 
the water. “I can see her so plainly from here, and 
yet she cannot see me at all,” thought he. “I will 
call to her to sit still, and look this way, while I 
wave my arms and see if I can make any motion she 
can distinguish. ” He had opened his mouth, drawn 
in his breath, and all but given utterance, when his 
quick eye distinguished a movement farther up 
along the huge tree trunk toward its top and at her 
back ; a second later his heart stopped beating and 
he became sick with horror. The head of a huge cat 
was rising slowly from the gnarled, dry limbs of 
the drift. As he looked, the shoulders rose in sight 
and then the huge body, the tail of which stood 
straight out behind, large as a man’s arm and at 
least three feet long. Farther back among the dry 
branches and also over in the reeds, he detected other 
movements, and knew that all three cats were slowly 
crawling up on their intended victim. Sickening 
horror had for a moment disabled him, but a peculiar 
motion of the great cat now brought him to his senses 
and he felt every nerve grow rigid. The cougar had 
begun that up and down motion, that gathering pre- 
liminary to a spring, that quivering of tense muscles, 
that setting of great claws into the wood that the 
in tended leap might be true to its mark. The animal 
had already crouched ; the great tail, at first slowly 
waving from side to side, had become rigid and still, 
when Rex found himself looking along his gun 
barrel, the sights fine and exactly on the base of 


i6o 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


that pointed ear. It seemed as if his finger pressed 
the trigger without an effort on his part, and appar- 
ently before the gun cracked the great cat rose in 
the air six or eight feet, and with a horrid yawl 
tumbled in a writhing heap on the gravel half-way 
toward the woman sitting there entirely unconscious 
of her danger. With a yell sufficient to frighten all 
the cats in Washington, Rex now bounded down the 
bluff toward the tree-top, pumping out his shell as 
he went and shouting: “Sit still, mother! Don’t 
move! It’s Rex! I’ve killed the old tom! The 
tabbies are in the brush!” But he had no need to 
fear. The crack of the rifle, that yawl, his yell and 
his flying footfalls, had scared the beasts half out of 
their wits. One, with a snarl, leaped far out into 
the water, not taking time to turn, and was now 
floundering along in the drift-wood toward the 
shadow of the forest. The other, equally wild 
with terror, was tearing through the brush like a 
wounded bear. The big tom, with an occasional 
convulsive kick, lay close to the edge of the water, 
all four feet in the air, a 40-82 bullet clean through 
both ear-drums. With cocked gun Rex leaped 
over the log, ran up to the cat, kicked it in the 
ribs as it lay, backed off, shot into its body, and when 
there was no movement, dropped his gun and run- 
ning to his mother picked her clean off her feet, all 
the time crying and trembling like a hysterical 
woman. 

“There! There! Rex. Set me down! I’m not 
hurt, nor very badly scared. Don’t you see? I 
hadn’t time to know what happened. You’ve killed 


REX SECURES THE DIARY 


161 


the animal. Be quiet, now! Do! Don’t hug me 
so! You’ll smash all my corset stays. Why, Rex! 
What does ail you?” 

Half-laughing,half-crying, Rex finally knelt beside 
her, buried his face in her dress and sobbed like a 
scared child. The strain had been terrible, and now 
that he knew she was safe he was no longer a man 
of nerve but a crying weakling. Mrs. Wayland 
understood. 

“That’s all right, my son. Cry if you feel like it. 
You’re a brave man just the same. You saved 
mother’s life — that you did. There are not many 
boys who could have acted so promptly nor have been 
half as brave. Mother’s proud of you. I’m sure 
Uncle Festus will be too. There now! none of that! 
no more bear hugs — Rex! you don’t realize how 
strong you are.’’ Here the little lad)^, her feathers 
sadly ruffled, pushed him at arm’s length again and 
stood laughing while he composed himself. She was 
cool as a cucumber, and her manner prevented 
Rex making a further exhibition of himself. Ad- 
vancing to the cat and striking a match, Rex bent 
over and held the flame close to the great mouth, the 
lips of which were drawn back from the tearing 
fangs. The yellow eyes gleamed glassily enough, 
but no longer emitted sparks as they had done before 
he shot. He touched one of the great forearms, 
heavier than his own, and noted the convulsive con- 
traction of the spread claws with which that formida- 
ble paw was armed. This was the last motion the 
cat ever made. It lay limp as a rag, the last of the 
reputed nine lives having apparently left it. 


162 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


“Had I been fifteen seconds later, that great paw 
would have broken your head all in, mother.” 

Mrs. Wayland shuddered. “I know it, Rex, and 
I shall be careful how I venture out far from camp 
again, especially at nightfall. Come ; let us go home 
now, and let the men come after this carcass with a 
boat. I suppose you want the hide as a trophy. ’ ’ 

“That I do, mother. I propose to have a rug out 
of it. Come on — or, wait! I’ll build a small fire 
here and the men can then more easily find the 
game.” This he did, and then walking his mother 
ahead while he nervously followed with cocked rifle, 
this unstrung young cougar-killer made his way 
toward camp, which they reached about 9:30. Their 
story created something of a stir, and four sturdy 
oarsmen with Uncle Festus at the tiller made a quick 
trip for the game. 

“I tell ye, he’s a booster!” remarked Uncle Festus, 
as two of the men came lugging the cat on a pale 
across the plank to the steps where the crowd waited. 

“Biggest durn cat I ever see!” exclaimed Big 
Hank the faller, who could tell larger and more 
thrilling hunting stories than any man along the 
entire canal. 

“He must be a sockdolager if Hank admits that,, ’ 
said the rival faller, and as the cat came into view — 
“By jeminy crikits, he is! Say, that feller is all of 
ten foot!” 

On reaching camp, Uncle Festus put the scales at 
two hundred and five pounds at a guess and glanced 
over his spectacles with surprise as the balance came 
up smartly against the brass cross-piece. “Ain’t any 


REX SECURES THE DIARY 163 

o’ you fellers sneakin’ a foot on that there platform, 
be ye?” he asked, glancing ’round at the numerous 
feet and legs that crowded near. 

“No; everything’s clear,” was the cry. 

“Everything but that there whollopin’ great tail 
on the floor. There! I’ll tuck it inter the cord 
atween the feet. Now! everybody stand back.” 
Here Uncle Festus began sliding the brass marker 
along. It went out to 40, but stayed up. To 45 
and still up, but trembled at 47. At 4814 it went 
slowly down. 

“A plump two hundred and forty-eight!” called 
out Uncle Festus. “By the Great Horn Spoons! 
But he’s a booster. Yes, siree! Ain’t fat, nuther. 
Seems to be stocky an’ heavy-built like. There’s 
where he gits his weight. Now let’s see what he 
measures. Stan’ clear, everybody there! Now, 
boys! Stretch him out on his back — so fashion! 
Hold down the snout to the floor thar, Jim. Don’t 
be ’fraid. He can’t bite ye. Now, Will, jest you 
take hold o’ that tail an’ pull the kinks out, while I 
cut these cords about his feet so he won’t lay 
humped. Thar ye air! Now, hev ye got that tail 
out full length? Don’t pull the critter in two. 
Now, I’ll mark on the floor here at the nose an’ you 
mark at the tip o’ the tail. There ye air! Now, 
roll him one side while I measure. Ten feet, 
seven an’ three-quarter inches. No! Hold on. 
I’m wrong. It’s ten foot nine an’ three-quarter 
inches. Say, boys! Thar’s the biggest cat ever 
killed ’long this canal. It’s heavier an’ longer. 
The hide’s purty good, too. I’ll skin it myself an’ 


164 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

take out the skull fer mountin’, teeth an’ all. I’ll 
bury the skull out here in an ant hill a piece, an’ the 
skin — I don’t believe I dare try fixin’ that. I jest 
think I’ll stretch it on a frame an’ take it to a taxy- 
darmist. Boy, that rug, when ye git it made, ’ll sell 
fer $150, an’ ’tain’t goin’ ter cost ye more’n ten ter 
git it made. ” 

“No man can buy it for $250. I want it for 
mother’s best room.’’ 

‘ ‘ W all, she ’ 11 need a purty big room to spread that. ’ ’ 

It was now late bed-time, and the women retired 
while Uncle Festus and a helper began skinning the 
cat. They did this very neatly, leaving on claws, 
tail and head skin, with nostrils and both upper and 
lower lips. The skull would be stripped of its scant 
meat by ants in a short time, burrowing into places 
no knife could reach. After the skinning all went 
to bed, and Rex had just dropped into his first sleep 
when there came a rap at his door. He opened it 
and beheld Uncle Festus standing there in his over- 
alls and flannel night shirt, his whiskers and hair 
all awry. 

“Say, boyee! I f ergot to ask about the book. 
Did ye git it?’’ 

“Yes, uncle. It’s in the safe. Put it there when 
I first came.” 

“Oh, ye did! Well, the country’s safe then, an’ I 
guess I’ll lay my bones away agin.’’ The old man 
presented a comical sight as he tiptoed back, his 
suspenders hanging, and the flame of the tallow 
candle he always persisted in using, in dangerous 
proximity to his bushy beard. 


CHAPTER XXI 


STUDYING SPANISH AND THE OLYMPICS 

Rex now renewed with great energy the study of 
Spanish, which he had practically abandoned some 
months before. His duties about the camp being 
comparatively light, he found many hours to devote 
to this side line. His knowledge of Latin helped 
him, and he made fair progress, even without a 
master. Finally he made an arrangement whereby 
he and a certain Spanish gentleman at Port Town- 
send exchanged two letters in Spanish each week, 
and soon felt that he was really progressing. He 
had never opened the diary since the day he put it 
in the safe, but that it contained reference to a 
treasure hidden somewhere in the Olympic Moun- 
tains he had not a doubt. It seemed very strange 
that these mountains had never been more fully 
explored. He often sat of a summer evening and 
gazed at the snowy peaks, so near and yet so far. 
He found that few people on the coast had ever 
ventured more than ten or twelve miles into these 
mountains, and a still smaller number twenty miles, 
while no one that he had ever met had explored them 
to a distance of fifty miles. He often talked of this 
to the various hunters and fishermen who came along, 
but all of these hardy men shook their heads and 
remarked: “Go back a ways yerself, Mr. Wayland, 
an’ you’ll see why.” One old prospector came 

165 


1 66 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


along the canal one day, following the beach in 
hope of finding “float” and a “strike” at the mouth 
of some stream or run. 

“Ever been over into those mountains?” inquired 
Rex, pointing to the rugged ridges some twenty 
miles away. The old man pulled his battered hat 
from his grizzled head, threw one foot upon a piece 
of drift along shore, and leaning across the knee 
thus raised, looked for a full minute at Turner’s 
Mountain, which rises up 3,800 feet directly from 
the waters of Taraboo Bay, twelve miles across from 
where they stood. 

“Yaas; I hev, as ye might say, an’ then agin, I 
hain’t. I ben in some twenty mile. Went up the 
Ducquebush. I was five days, me an’ the kyuses 
was, a-gittin’ up some twenty mile, an’ havin’ had 
enough, I kim back. I got ontew one ridge — that 
hogback o’ snow, ’bout five mile back o’ that second 
landslide ye see up there on the right, an’ from 
there I see nothin’ but mountains an’ ridges an’ 
perspices an’ peaks, any one on ’em onpassable to 
man. Then I kim back. I’ve prospected in the 
Cascades, in the coast range further south, an’ in 
all the mountains south clear to the issmuss. I’ve 
ben acrost the Andees four times an’ took a whack’ 
at the wust land they is in New .Zealand and 
Australy, but there ain’t nothin’ else nowhar on the 
face o’ the globe kin compare to them Olympics fer 
roughness. D’ye see them two landslides up the 
right slope o’ the Ducquebush over yander? They 
don’t look over five mile away, though in reelty 
they’re near twenty, bein’ some ten or eleven mile 



AN OLD PROSPECTOR TELLS REX ABOUT THE OLYMPICS 


167 



i68 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


back from t’other coast. Wall! Them’s jest an’ 
inklin’ o’ the hull darn clump. You kin stan’ on the 
ridge over thar — the hogback with snow on it, I 
mean — an’ from there ye kin count twenty sich 
slides, an’ if it’s a warm day in spring, perhaps ye 
kin see one or two start while ye wait. I saw one. 
I tell ye I don’t wonder Siwash think stick -Injuns 
ha’nt the interior. Them an’ eagles er about the 
only things kin.” 

“But I understand there are elk and bear and 
cougar over there. They must find something to 
live on. Both bear and elk eat grass, you know. 
Besides, I have heard it reported that there are 
grassy plains over in the interior. ’ ’ 

“Yaas! So there be! So there be! I’ve ben 
roun’ up by Lake Cushman, an’ by climbin’ peaks 
over to the north o’ the Quilayute region, hev seen 
’em layin’ off to the north and west, sleepin’ in the 
sunshine thirty mile or more away. Green grass 
valleys they be, an’ without a tree. With my big 
glass I’ve seen big bands of elk on ’em, but between 
me an’ them stretched along a ledge 2,500 foot plum 
down, an’ as I hadn’t no time to hunt along fer 
miles over that broken hogback fer a place ter slide 
down, with poor chances fer gittin’ back, I jest 
looked an’ kim away. We read about press clubs 
goin’ acrost ter the Pacific — it’s only a hundred mile, 
they say — an’ we read letters some eastern feller 
writes about the interior as he see it. The gov’ment 
sent a band o’ sogers ’cross, but you hear me — they 
went ’cross to the south or north an’ not whar the 
main cluster is. Ef you don’t believe me, you go 


STUDYING SPANISH AND THE OLYMPICS 169 

over an’ ask Pierre Peroux. He’s a climber if ever 
there was one, an’ he’s lived over across here ten 
year. He gits where any man kin, an’ he don’t git 
back more’n twenty or thirty mile, takin’ a week 
er more fer it at that.” 

“Who is this Pierre Peroux?” 

“Oh, he’s a young German or Frenchman what 
lives over on the Ducquebush ’bout four or five mile 
up. Nice a feller as ever ye see. Has a cabin up 
thar an’ a little ranch. Nice feller Pierre is, an’ a 
great hunter, too. Go over’n git him to take ye 
out. ’Twon’t cost ye nothin’. He’ll feed ye, too, 
fer nothin’, ’less ye make him take suthin’ fer it. 
Biggest hearted critter ye ever see. Some one 
livin’ off him all the time. But I must be goin’. 
Good-day!” 

Full of what he had heard, Rex thereafter talked 
of the mountains with every one and found the old 
prospector had not exaggerated. He also inquired 
about Peroux and found that he was well known all 
along the canal as an intelligent, well read young 
Alsatian, who, by reason of his descent from some 
mountain-loving Swiss, German or Frenchman, 
preferred to “bach” it in his lonely cabin far up 
the narrow Ducquebush valley to living out of the 
mountains in some more civilized portion of the 
state. One day Rex had business at a lumber camp 
some three miles up the Ducquebush, and after it 
was concluded, made his way up the trail to Peroux’s 
cabin. Here he found the mountain-climber, and 
made his acquaintance. He was charmed from the 
first by this tall, blue-eyed, fair-haired young 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


1 70 

hermit, who in his soft voice and matter-of-fact way- 
told of an every-day life that is a romance. Rex 
was invited to come up in December, or earlier if he 
chose, and was promised an elk hunt above the 
clouds. What wonder is it that Peroux’s beans and 
bread tasted sweeter than honey and that Rex went 
back across the canal the happiest lad in the state? 

Uncle Festus listened with great interest, and 
readily promised to make one of the party. “Old as 
I am,” he declared, “I kin climb round fer a day or 
two with youngsters, and as fer campin’ — ef your 
man Peroux knows more ’bout it than yer uncle, 
he’s a good one. But, Rex, now’t we’re here all 
alone, I move that ye tell yer mother all about the 
cause fer yer interest in them hills. I hev ben the 
one, Mrs. Wayland, that has made yer boy keep a 
secret from ye. I dunno’s I done right, but I had 
my reasons, an’ now I’ve changed my mind an’ 
want ye to know all about it. ” 

“What is it? A secret, Mr. Estus? You know 
women are not good at keeping secrets. ’ ’ 

“I know one ’at is, Mrs. Wayland. Rex, git the 
book. ” 

Rex gladly obeyed, for, like any other mother’s 
boy, he disliked a secret she could not share. All 
this mystery had for this very reason held for him 
one serious drawback. He now brought out the 
book and they had a long talk over it. It was 
agreed that his knowledge of Spanish was now 
sufficient for him to attempt a translation, and that 
he should hereafter devote his leisure to the task 
until it was accomplished. 


CHAPTER XXII 


DIARY OF ANDRES TENORIO- — SOME NEW LIGHT ON 
SPANISH AND INDIAN HISTORY 

It was late in December when, one evening, Rex 
read to Uncle Festus and Mrs. Wayland his transla- 
tion. The title-page of the strange book conveyed 
the information that the volume was an autobiog- 
raphy of one Andres Tenorio, born in 1749 and 
departing this life in 1793. On another page began 
the biography, although it was prefaced by a few 
explanatory remarks. Rex was as true to the text as 
any translator of like experience could have been, and 
his rendering was probably very nearly correct. 
Here is what he read: 

Straits of Anian ) 

or > August, 1790. 

Northwest Passage. ) 

I, Andres Tenorio, being at 
this time, as I have been for the past eighteen years, 
a captive of the Duwamish Indians, have this day 
commenced a journal, diary or autobiography, which 
shall some day, I hope and pray, give to the world 
my sad history, even if I am never permitted to 
speak with a civilized people again. I see such 
people now occasionally, as this narrative will show, 
but they are never permitted to see me, nor am I 
ever permitted to hear their voices, a sound I long 


172 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


for more fervently than can be imagined. My life 
history is as follows: 

I was born at Seville, Spain, in the year of the 
nativity of Christ, 1749, month of March. My father 
was a small but prosperous land-owner, living with- 
out the walls, and he was not only able, but willing 
to educate me and make me a useful member of 
society. My ambitions during the first fifteen years 
of my life did not reach beyond my immediate sur- 
roundings, and I labored diligently at my youthful 
tasks, making fair progress at school and in all ways 
delighting my parents and teachers. Ah me! If 
they be living yet, I wonder if they do not love to 
think, as I do now, of the dutiful lad, who was not 
only the pride but the pet of all the circle. Would 
that my lines could have been ever thus cast! But it 
was not to be. Some saint whom I should have 
propitiated, by gifts, prayers, or sacrifices, but did 
not, was offended and the evil course of my life 
began. At the age of fifteen I was apprenticed to a 
scrivener and book-maker of my native city, and here 
I first became fascinated with what to me proved 
pernicious literature. In our shop were not 
only printed books for binding, but also manuscripts 
to be bound in volumes or tomes, for use and pres- 
ervation. I was not only quick at my work of 
stitching, to which I had been advanced, but also 
quick at reading, either writing or print proof, and 
thus it came about that I found time to read as I put 
my bodkin through. In this manner I made myself 
conversant with the geographical discoveries of the 
day. The exploits of Pizarro, Cortez and their 




174 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

fellows, were not generally known to the common 
people, save by hearsay, for books were scarce ; so 
that I, being thus permitted a perusal of certain rare 
works, was accorded a privilege that should have 
been a benefit, where it proved, alas, a bane. At 
seventeen I had so far progressed as to myself act as 
scrivener, and before me for days sat the bold 
voyageurs of the period, dictating to me such of their 
exploits and discoveries as they wished the world 
to know. Oftentimes we fell into conversation, and 
urged on by my animated face and eager eyes, they 
told me stories of rapine and revel, such as they 
dared not dictate to scrivener or printer for pres- 
ervation. I had a knack of dressing up a tale, 
of embellishing it, as it were, and by exercising this 
talent I won their favor for myself and my master. 
No one dreamed, much less my parents, that these 
tales of the Caribbees, Mexico, the island of Cali- 
fornia and other half-explored and hardly discovered 
portions of the New World, were givingme a passion 
for voyages to that far country; yet such was the 
case, and I was but nineteen years of age when I 
departed with one of my friends for the great 
unknown west. This man, Don Carlos Perez, was a 
distant relative of the great Juan Perez and it is to 
him that I ascribe most of the pernicious influences 
that have wrecked my life. He was an older man 
than his cousin Juan, and before we reached the 
shores of the new world I found him to be secretly a 
pirate, or at least one who never allowed any scruple 
to stand in the way of his money-getting. He was, 
withal, a merry soul, fond of the bowl and a 


DIARY OF ANDRES TENORIO 


175 


roysterer, "ever good-natured except when out of 
money; then he was moody and murderous. His 
bravery and seamanship were unquestionably 
remarkable, and I believe that had he been less of a 
high liver and of greater moral strength, he might 
have been one of Spain’s greatest discoverers. 

I crossed the Mexican mountains in company with 
this man, and on my twenty-first birthday saw the 
Pacific for the first time. He and I were then 
almost penniless, and when at nightfall we sought 
a coast settlement for shelter we could not have paid 
the price had one been asked. But none was asked. 
We were fed and bedded by a good priest, the 
Father Francis, and the fair hands of his niece 
Isabella made clean our soiled garments while we 
slept. No one knew of our penniless condition, for 
why should they? We had no need of money where 
such hospitality could be found, and I listened with 
no little amusement to the grand tales Perez told 
the simple folk about us. He was, he claimed, 
about to organize an expedition, to search out the 
Northwest Passage, which both Spanish and English 
have so long wished to find — the Spanish that they 
may check English accession in North America, by 
claims along the northwest coast as far eastward 
in the direction of Hudson’s Bay and Newfoundland 
as possible, the English that they may sail across, 
take up the north coast of this passage and thus 
check French or Spanish accession in northern 
North America. 

What Perez expected to gain by the lies he told, I 
did not at first understand, nor do I to this day 


176 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


clearly know, but I was so hardened by association 
with him, that I was content to be looked upon as 
his secretary or private scrivener, while he posed as 
a grand master of men and a prince of discovery. 
Soon I made a discovery of my own, which, had I 
been a man of honor, I should have put to good use, 
but being myself hardened, I recked not, and stood 
quietly by and saw a wrong done. The young and 
trusting Isabella was heir to a treasure, which her 
uncle, the good priest, had kept for her, to be given 
her as a dowry when in time some worthy man 
came to claim her hand. This dowry, which was in 
gold bars and silver coin, was kept by the good 
priest in three brass chests. Perez learned of this 
through a servant and he determined to gain pos- 
session of the girl and treasure by fair means or 
foul, then purchase the snug “Pinta” which lay at 
her moorings in the harbor of the small town. The 
priest, however, had more recently conceived a 
distrust of him and, from the threats Perez made to 
me, I was convinced he meant to remove him before 
he risked an open or formal request for the girl. 
This I was certain of, yet I was wicked enough to 
stand by and see him plot and plan. Finally, he 
accomplished his purpose. Poison did its work with- 
out warning, and the assumed grief of Perez was as 
good a piece of trickery as ever I saw. Such was 
his influence over the girl, that within a few weeks 
he had secured her and her treasure, purchased the 
“Pinta,” and shipping a crew of six men, had set 
sail up the coast into that unknown sea. 

It was not until we were five weeks out that Perez 


DIARY OF ANDRES TENORIO 


177 


in his cups betrayed himself, and when, stung to 
madness by the knowledge thus forced upon her, 
Isabella turned on him like a tigress, he beat her. 
From the hate that then shot forth from those erst- 
while soft eyes, I knew he would rue the day, that 
she was now a demon and would have revenge. 
That night a terrible storm arose, and the winds 
from the west drove us straight toward a rocky, 
mountainous shore. All that night we flew before 
the blast, and as the morning light broke about us 
found land on either side, while mountains appeared 
to rise up out of the tossing water. To the north 
was a high, snow-capped peak. To the south 
another, and further south yet another, vaster than 
all its fellows. I little dreamed then that I was 
soon to settle down to slavery within a few miles of 
that mountain, there to remain for twenty years, 
and perhaps all my after-life. All that day we 
sailed due east or near it, and as the strait or 
channel seemed to trend to the north, Perez grew 
hilarious. He was sure we had been blown into the 
Northwest Passage, and swore we should explore it. 
We would make maps, take possession of the coun- 
try in the name of England, for Perez had no 
patriotic pride and wanted the 20,000 pounds Eng- 
land offered. For years the best navigators had 
endeavored in vain to rediscover the mysterious 
straits of Anian, which Juan de Fuca had written 
of, but all had failed and now we had stumbled upon 
them. Out from his cabinet of charts and maps 
came an old one of the supposed straits, and long 
did Perez and I study it. Isabella, his wife, showed 


173 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


no enthusiasm, but sat mutely by, a picture of such 
sullen fury as I had never seen even among the 
hot-tempered women of our country. 

At nightfall we came to a turning of the ways. 
We went to the north and then to the east. On all 
sides were islands, great and small. To the north 
appeared a more open sea. We were anxious to get 
to the east, and as we dropped anchor, resolved to 
sail or sweep our way the next day into a narrow 
pass that opened to the eastward. We then retired, 
leaving a watch on deck. All was quiet. There 
was not a breath of wind, and the single sail we had 
spread hung like lead from its fastenings. For a 
time I heard the tramp of the watch on deck, and 
then fell asleep. When I awoke the tramp had 
ceased. The silence made me uneasy, and I arose 
and went on deck. There, on his back, lay the 
watch fast asleep. He had been overwearied the 
night before, as had all the crew. It was quite dark, 
and still no wind. However, it seemed to me that we 
were moving. Suddenly through the gloom a high, 
rocky point shot past. We must be dragging our 
anchor. We were near rocks and I could hear the 
swirl of waters on both sides. We were in a narrow 
passage. I gave the alarm and all came running on 
deck. Just then the moon came out and we saw 
that we were in the narrow pass we had discerned 
before darkness came on, but it was now a raging 
flood. The waters boiled beneath us. * 

Perez was the coolest of the lot. “It is the tide 

* Probably the famous Deception Pass, between Fidalgo and 
Whidby Islands. 


DIARY OF ANDRES TENORIO 


179 


rushing in through this narrow passage, “ he shouted. 
“Get to the helm, Andres, and keep her straight/’ 
I obeyed and in ten minutes the danger seemed past. 
We now found ourselves in closer quarters than at 
any time before, except when in the passage. We 
were in a sound or land-locked bay. We must get 
far enough away from the mouth of that pass to 
avoid being swept out again when the tide should 
turn. We spread our sails and, as a light wind came 
on, went south for a league. Then we dropped 
anchor again and slept until morning.- All that day 
we sailed south, a breeze square astern. The land 
on either side was bold and heavily timbered. Here 
and there appeared splendid harbors and the shore 
everywhere was so bold we could almost have tied 
to the trees. Occasionally we saw natives in canoes, 
but when they saw us, they paddled fast up some 
inlet or river and were lost to view. It was evident 
that they had never before seen white men or ships. 
The channel widened as we went south, and at sun- 
set we entered a broad roadstead or sound. It was 
in fact an inland sea, so vast was its expanse. We 
anchored for the night in a small bight on its eastern 
shore. 

The next morning at daylight we saw coming 
along shore a fleet of canoes, and we stood out some 
distance. On they came, and we awaited them. 
There were literally hundreds of them, and all were 
full of men. As they came within three hundred 
fathoms, they formed and advanced fully two hun- 
dred abreast. Within fifty fathoms they paused, 
and a mighty shout went up, while the air was 


i8o 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


darkened by arrows. These arrows were aimed 
straight up and not at us, so they fell almost 
on the heads of the bowmen. Then there was 
another shout and out from the line came a score 
of canoes, from which, as they advanced, the 
occupants threw feathers on the water, at the same 
time raising their hands to show that they bore no 
weapons. 

Perez in his most gorgeous costume here appeared 
on deck, and advanced to the wale. In his hands he 
also bore feathers, which he cast out, and they went 
lightly off on the dancing waves. He had inter- 
preted the feather tribute as a symbol of peace, and 
had reciprocated. At his action another great shout 
went up, and two abreast all the canoes swept by the 
vessel’s side, each canoe casting something aboard. 
Some threw small fruits and berries, some dried 
meats and others skins, while a few threw small 
deerskin bags of gold dust. The deck was literally 
loaded down with gifts. Especially numerous were 
the skins of the sea-otter, worth almost their weight 
in gold. The procession of canoes now took a wide 
sweep out on the gently rolling bosom of the beauti- 
ful bay, and then, with all the precision of a column 
of our own Castilian soldiery, came back past our 
vessel. Perez had ordered me to bring up several 
bags and parcels, and from these he now drew forth 
handfuls of glittering beads, rolls or twists of gay 
ribbon, hanks of red and blue cord and thread, some 
tinsel and tinsel fringe, and I know not what else. 
These he cast into the canoes as they passed along, 
when great was the scramble and loud the shouting. 


DIARY OF ANDRES TENORIO 181 

The procession, however, never ceased its progress 
until the last canoe had its chance. 

“How is it that these natives have this plan of 
trade so well thought out? You say they have never 
seen white men,” said I to Perez. 

“They have seen and talked with other natives 
along the coast who have traded with white men, 
and you may be sure they deal just as they were told 
the others did. I doubt not that, had they never 
heard of the power of our cannon, they would have 
attacked us. This power has been magnified all 
along the coast, and since Cortez taught them such 
a terrible lesson, they look on us as gods, against 
whom resistance is useless. They seek to propitiate 
us by this mass of presents and consider themselves 
lucky that we give them anything in return. Should 
we sail in here without a bead, I doubt not but that we 
should receive as much for a time, but we might 
not, and these natives might forsake the shores 
during our stay. I therefore provided myself with 
this trash, which I found at the mission long before 
we sailed. What do you reckon to be the value of 
the ‘potlatch’ or gift they have made me?” 

“I am sure I could not say, sir. There is some 
gold in these little sacks, and those furs, of the value 
of which I am ignorant, look to be of the finest 
quality. ” 

Perez laughed. “The big bear hide that first 
chief threw aboard is large enough and fine enough 
to carpet a king’s sleeping chamber. It will bring 
at least two and possibly three Spanish doubloons 
from the first cruiser we may meet outside. The 


182 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


English pay not so well, but for these smaller 
skins, these sea-otters, they will give even more — the 
equivalent of at least five doubloons, or four English 
sovereigns. There are many of this otter — I should 
say one hundred and fifty at least — and I calculate 
we have here on our decks no less than five hundred 
doubloons or four hundred English sovereigns’ worth 
of furs and gold. In return I gave them perhaps 
five sovereigns’ worth. What think you of such 
trade as that?” 

I was amazed, and said so, but was warned by 
Perez to keep these values to myself, lest the crew 
become dissatisfied with the bargain they had made 
and demand more. That day we packed away the 
fruits of our first interchange and sailed south some 
twenty leagues, passing at one time through a wide 
body of water and later dropping anchor near some 
beautiful islands. 

The next morning we received a greater potlatch, 
the natives issuing forth from a broad bay indenting 
the eastern shore, about two leagues opposite the 
islands. After their procession, the main body of 
canoes backed off some distance and there remained 
while three boats larger than the rest advanced to 
our vessel’s side and made signs of amity. From 
the largest of these a stalwart and regal-looking 
native clambered to our deck and stood there until 
three or four slaves had followed him and thrown 
about his shoulders a great puma or cat skin. This 
skin, which must have been at least ten or eleven 
feet from tip to tip, had been taken entire from the 
animal, and while its head skin formed a cap, its 


DIARY OF ANDRES TENORIO 183 

forearms were brought together and crossed on his 
broad breast, the cruel claws dangling down over 
either nipple. Having thus dressed him toga- 
fashion, these slaves prostrated themselves before 
him, crying in guttural tones, their mouths mean- 
while close to the deck: “Sealth! Hyas Tyee 
Sealth!” Thus we understood that the greatest of 
their chieftains stood before us, and Perez, in his 
most imposing costume, came forward to greet him. 
The chieftain stood like a statue, his barbaric robe 
trailing majestically behind, until Perez had ad- 
vanced to within a yard of him. Then reaching 
forward, he laid one hand on our commander’s 
shoulder and with the other gently patted or stroked 
a gorgeous plume Perez wore. Perez smiled and in 
return stroked the magnificent skin. With a sign to 
his slaves, the Indian grandee stepped back, they 
unfastened the robe, and advancing to Perez, the 
chief put it about his shoulders. Perez signed to 
me and I plucked the plume from his hat and thrust 
it into the heavy hair of the chief, at which there 
was loud acclaim on all sides. Leaving his robe 
behind and carefully poising his head that his 
treasured plume might not drop off, the chieftain 
hereupon retired, and the entire procession of 
canoes, the high prowed and strangely carved barge 
of Sealth leading the way, moved out across the bay 
again and soon disappeared around a projecting 
head. 

From this time forward we were constantly busied 
in trade or in packing away the goods which were 
left each morning on our deck. There was never 


184 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


any bargaining or bantering, the natives leaving all 
to our generosity and retiring to a respectful dis- 
tance after leaving their goods upon our deck. We 
did not venture to move more than five or six 
leagues any one day, and within a week or two had 
made the round of the entire inland sea or sound. 
We could not discover any passage or outlet to the 
south, and finally sailed out at the north within a 
couple of leagues of where we had sailed in. By 
daylight we examined the narrow entrance or pass 
through which we had been swept that night, and 
found it safe enough at certain hours — just at the 
turn of the tide — but at other hours it was a boiling 
whirlpool, almost equal- to the far-famed Charybdis. 
We now struck out into the wide straits of Anian, and 
under cover of darkness into the wider ocean, lest we 
be seen by some wandering sail and our discovery 
become known. We were but twenty da)^ in sail- 
ing down the coast and reached the Spanish settle- 
ments on the west shore without incident. Here the 
richness of our cargo created great comment and it 
was only by dropping out one night, after taking on 
supplies, that we avoided being followed. Perez had 
artfully kept all aboard, allowing no one to land or 
communicate with those ashore, and I now believe 
he represented to those with whom he exchanged 
his furs, for Spanish and English gold, that we had 
secured them from the northern coast of Asia. All 
• the gold he had secured he melted down and placed 
within the three strong chests, and with promises 
of heavy pay to all of the crew remaining after a 
second or third voyage, which he wished to make 


DIARY OF ANDRES TENORIO 185 

in secret, he again doubled on the track he had 
taken westward, and sailing to the north, again 
entered our sound country — this paradise as yet all 
our own. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


SPANISH DIARY CONTINUED — DEATH OF DISCOVERER 
PEREZ HORRIBLE HUMAN SACRIFICE 

We soon loaded our vessel again on this our 
second visit, and within the next eighteen months 
made no less than four trips into this vast sound 
region, through those straits Juan de Fuca had 
written about, but which no one other than our- 
selves had ere this been able to rediscover. We 
were exceedingly cautious each time we entered or 
left these straits, and generally sailed by night, that 
no one might learn of and profit by our discovery. 
We had ascertained that Spanish, English and French 
traders had discovered a large island, as they sup- 
posed, up at the north of this Strait of Anian, and 
were constantly pushing a heavy and profitable 
trade with the Nootka Indians, who controlled not 
only this island but a main shore to the east of a 
passage. We did not fear the Nootka Indians giving 
news of our territory to these traders, for they 
were only too anxious to keep all this trade to them- 
selves, but we did fear that some strolling trading 
vessel might blunder upon our territory, and by 
larger gifts than we made deprive us of a portion of 
the great profit we were making. During all these 
days of toil, danger and accumulation, Perez was the 
ideal commander, brave, discreet and far-sighted, 
but finally because followed from the ports of the 

186 


SPANISH DIARY CONTINUED 


187 


south, he sailed with a cargo to the settlements in 
India, on the southeast coast of Asia, and there dis- 
posed not only of his cargo, but in his cups of his 
secret. I was present at the time, and it was only 
by the shrewdest calculation and prompt action that 
I secured the assassination of those he had betrayed 
himself to. While he was sleeping off the effects 
of this debauch, Isabella, who had latterly, under his 
promises, seemed to reconcile herself and work in 
his interests, approached me and proposed that we 
rid ourselves of him at the earliest opportunity. 

To say that I was amazed at this bloodthirsty 
proposition from a creature I had deemed so sub- 
missive, in action if not always in looks, is but to 
state the truth, and I was horrified as well. But I 
had become so depraved by my associations that I 
assented, and constantly, during that long return 
voyage east, did I ponder over the chances of secur- 
ing both Perez’s treasure and his wife. So firmly 
did this passion possess me that I fully resolved to 
murder him at the first opportunity, and that 
opportunity came even sooner than I had expected. 

We had reached the sound country, and were in 
the vicinity of an immense hut or log palace built on 
the shore and facing a narrow passage at the back 
of one of the islands, near which we had been moored 
on the morning Sealth came to visit us and present 
Perez with his royal robe. It seemed that Sealth 
had recently changed his kingly residence from the 
shores of the bay across the sound to this palace, 
and here we had lately taken on a large portion of 
our cargo. This palace was in its way a marvel. It 


i88 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


was as wide as our vessel’s length, or near it, and 
as long as a score of such vessels. In it lived nearly 
one thousand of the chief people of the allied 
Duwamish, including their wives, children and 
slaves. Sealth had first been brought to this palace 
as a slave, but had later risen to be chief of these 
vassals, and still later, by a revolution of his tribe, 
to hy as tyee or great chief. At the time of our first 
visit he had not changed his residence, but did so 
while we were south discharging our cargo. 

It was a beautiful morning in early December. 
That peculiarly mild, balmy air, characteristic of 
this sound country, even when winter blasts are 
blowing far south, was now gently rolling the green 
waters about us. Along shore, but a few hundred 
fathoms distant, the native children were playing, 
their mothers squatted contentedly watching them. 
Perez came on deck, his eyes bleared by deep 
potations, for he had recently indulged again, after 
an abstinence that had continued throughout our 
voyage across the ocean. As I have said, while in 
liquor he was always jovial. This morning he was 
particularly so, and swore he was going ashore to 
make a native tyee drunk. I was astonished at his 
temerity, and told him so, when he changed from 
boisterous good-nature to boisterous anger, and order- 
ing out a crew of four, took with him a large flagon 
of rum and soon staggered out on the beach. He 
was apparently bound to do something out of 
the usual order, for he had dropped his dignity 
and in place of the customary salutation — the 
laying of firm hand on shoulder — struck heavily, 


SPANISH DIARY CONTINUED 1 %g 

pushed, palled and swayed about, all the while 
laughing uproariously. I saw him enter the 
palace, carrying the flagon in his arms. The 
four oarsmen had remained at their places in the 
boat. All was quiet for a space of thirty minutes, 
except for an occasional outburst of laughter, and 
having begun to lose the fears that had possessed 
me, I was just going below, when I heard a shout, 
sounding like the voice of Perez in anger. Then 
there was a violent pushing against the great mat, 
which hung between the standards in front of the 
palace. An instant later Perez tumbled or scram- 
bled out from under this mat, his large hat, minus 
some of its gaudy feathers, rolling after. He was 
followed by a score of tyees and lesser tyees, all 
striking at him with the weapons that were handiest. 
As he came to his feet he drew his sword, and then 
for the space of a few seconds there was as pretty a 
fight as ever I saw. His sword was a heavy one. 
but he handled it as if it had been a feather, his 
great strength permitting feats impossible to most 
men. A savage head was cloven to the chin with 
all ease. Another rolled on the pebbles and clam 
shells that covered the beach. An arm was lopped, 
a cheek and nose were shaved clean off a bleeding 
face; and still that bright blade flashed in the 
morning sun. Perez’s blood was clearly up. He 
was a demon when roused, and I was not surprised 
to see him now charge the whole crowd. They 
scrambled over one another in their haste to get in 
under that heavy curtain, and Perez, cursing like 
the demon he was, hurled defiance after them. Then 


190 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


he turned and stalked slowly down the beach. At 
the boat he turned and cursed again, and as the tall 
form of Hy as Tyee Sealth emerged from the farther 
end of the palace, he rushed toward him sword in 
hand. From somewhere inside a hundred warriors 
saw their revered chieftain’s danger, and, regardless 
of consequences, rushed between. 

This manifestation warned even Perez, and facing 
them, he backed to the boat, which he shoved off 
and entered. Then as the boat came out toward our 
vessel’s side, he stood up in her stern, and waving 
his blade, cursed again as drunken men will. His 
head was bared and his long hair and coarse beard 
were matted with sweat and blood. A blow from a 
club had smashed in one side of his face, and all in all 
he was, at close range, as bestial and undignified 
looking a specimen as I ever saw. So seemed to think 
the natives also. He was certainly no longer a 
divinity to them, for he had condescended to quarrel 
with their lesser chiefs, to whom he had given 
“biting water.’’ This great spirit they had so long 
revered had suddenly lost his power and fallen under 
the spell of some other spirit greater. They jab- 
bered excitedly about it as the boat left the shore, 
and finally risked a flight of arrows. Perez was 
struck by one which disabled his sword arm, and the 
blade fell into the water, whereat the natives set up a 
great shout and ran for their own canoes. Three of 
the crew were also struck fatally, and the fourth man 
fainted from loss of blood soon after we pulled him 
and the boat aboard. Perez was apparently partially 
sobered by the incident. At all events, he helped 


SPANISH DIARY CONTINUED 


191 

us as best he could, and as he saw some forty or 
fifty canoes coming from all along shore, gave the 
order and assisted in weighing anchor. The morn- 
ing breeze off shore had not yet died away, and we 
swept out of the passage into the broader waters of the 
bay before the natives could overtake us. Then we 
made for the open sound, but they could paddle 
faster than we were sailing, and soon would surround 
us. 

“Teach them a lesson !” cried Perez. “Train the 
big gun ! ’ ’ 

I did so, and our load of scrap broke five or six 
canoes and dyed the waters with the blood of at 
least a score of savages. As I began reloading the 
piece, Perez and our two surviving men brought up 
the small arms and commenced shooting. There 
was now great consternation, and the canoes were 
already turning as if to hasten back, when out past 
the point swept the great war barge of Sealth, that 
gigantic chief erect in the prow. His powerful 
voice arose above all the din, and at his command 
one hundred or more canoes formed in line of battle 
and came rapidly on. We were at this time gather- 
ing headway, and the strong wind which swept up 
the sound outside bellied out our sail. The canoe 
men saw that we woifld outstrip them, and spread- 
ing out in broad front, suddenly let fly a cloud of 
arrows. I escaped, but every other man aboard was 
hit, Perez in his remaining arm. Juan and Jose and 
Pierre — the latter a Frenchman from Bayonne, near 
the Spanish border— went down, each with one 
or more arrows in some vital portion, and to me was 


192 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


left the sailing of our vessel. The Dona Isabella 
was below when the imbroglio occurred, but now 
came rushing up and straight to me. 

“What means this?” she cried. 

“Death to all, if the wind dies first, ” was my reply, 
as I took the tiller from the stiffening hand of poor 
Pierre. 

“I can do that! Let me!” she cried, running back 
to me, and as I hesitated, she wrenched my hand 
from the tiller. ‘ 4 Go fight ! ’ ’ she commanded. ‘ 4 Fire 
at them! We will at least have revenge for the 
poor brave seamen they have slain. Train the big 
gun with care. ” 

I did so and saw great havoc follow the report. 
All this time the vessel was sailing faster, while that 
fierce-looking woman at the helm said not a word 
to comfort her wounded husband, who, with an arrow 
through each shoulder, lay groaning not three yards 
from her. As I came back where she was, breathing 
freer that we were now out of danger, she laid her 
hand on my arm and asked, while tears filled her 
eyes: “Poor fellows! Are they all dead?’’ 

“All but your husband, madame,” was my reply. 
“He, as you hear, is alive and groaning, but badly 
hurt. ’ ’ Her eyes flashed and her nostrils dilated with 
scorn as she turned to look at him. 

“Let him lie! He won’t poison any more people, 
nor will he carouse and drink with natives, who 
would have been harmless as children but for 
him.” 

As she fairly hissed these hard words, I started 
and looked down at Perez, but with his last groan 


SPANISH DIARY CONTINUED 


193 


he had fainted from loss of blood. As I looked up, 
she met my gaze steadily, and said : 

“Andres Tenorio, all these months have I debated 
whether to kill him myself or give him up to the 
people when we reach the mission. I am aware that 
you only suspect how my uncle died. I know. 
That villain has even taunted me with his horrible 
secret. He is now in my power. The saints have 
delivered him into my hands. I have decided. He 
shall die to-day. ’ * 

Long as I had plotted, I was inclined to weaken 
when the chance came. She saw it by my looks. 
“Come here!” she commanded. I stepped nearer, 
and looking me full in the face, her eyes grew lumi- 
nous, but soft and tender this time, for tears filled 
them. 

“Andres,” she whispered, “we are together in 
misfortune. Has he not ruined your life, too? Did 
he not entice you away from your home in far away 
Seville, where a poor mother prays even now for 
her lost boy? Have you not worked hard for him? 
Has he ever paid you one peseta in all these years? 
I pity you. More do I pity the mother mourning 
for you. And what of myself? I am no older than 
you, but while I am a ruined, deceived woman, a 
woman without faith in any One, you are a boy. 
You can redeem yourself. You shall. I am going 
to make you rich, and return you to your home. 
Kneel to your mistress, boy! I command you.” 

She had taken me in a tender way. I wept,' I 
knew not why; and as I knelt, I bathed her fingers 
with my tears. 


194 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


“There! There! Andres. Rise again! You have 
taken an oath of allegiance without words. If you 
were ever passively or even actively in league with 
that man, I forgive you. I once planned to have 
you kill him. I am glad you did not now. Drag 
those bodies forward and wrap them for burial, 
while I do my part. My dear husband needs a 
cordial. Bring me wine.” 

I brought her a flask from the cabin, and as I 
handed it to her, saw that she had in some way 
secured the phial of poison Perez constantly carried 
with him. Sitting beside him on the deck, she began to 
bathe his temples with the wine, forced some between 
his teeth, and even rubbed some of it in his nostrils. 
He gasped, his eyelids slowly lifted, and with an 
oath he attempted to sit up. “Lie still, Juan,” I 
heard her say. Just then I looked out around the 
head that jutted into the roadstead, and changed our 
course to save a tack. When I looked again, she was 
yet bending over him and pressing the wine flask 
to his lips. He drank three swallows, and rising with 
the look of a fiend on her face, she threw the flask 
far from her, and laughed so loudly that Perez, 
weak as he was, opened his eyes wide in wonder. 
As he looked, she checked her laughter, and gazing 
down at him, said, in low, unearthly tones: 

“Carlos Perez, look on this crucifix I hold up to 
you, and pray with all your strength, for in ten min- 
utes you may be dead. You have with that wine 
swallowed some of the same cordial you gave my 
uncle, the good Father Francis. You told him it 
would restore him. Perhaps it will restore you , but 


SPANISH DIARY CONTINUED 


195 

you know how it affected him. Are he and I 
avenged?” 

Weak as he was, Perez sat lip at once, but she 
pushed him back. 1 sprang forward and caught her 
by the wrist, but she shook me off, and kneeling 
beside him, gazed exultantly into his fast glazing 
eyes, at the same time holding the crucifix she had 
always worn close to his face. Perez’s lips moved, 
and he seemed trying to frame words — perhaps a 
prayer, perhaps a curse. But he never spoke dis- 
tinctly again. We two, that terrible woman and I, 
were the only living beings on that speeding ship. 

All that day we sailed to the north. Doha Isabella 
was very pale, but quiet and gentle now, and took 
her turn at the helm while I ate my meals, or rigged 
the sails. The sun had scarcely dropped behind the 
high snowy peaks on our left that afternoon, when 
the moon came out, and over those tossing white- 
capped waves we sailed on to the north. The days 
are very short at this season in these latitudes, and I 
had dreaded the long night before us, for I feared a 
storm. All day had I seen storm rifts in the sky — a 
sure sign — but now the night was perfect and we 
were making great headway. I lashed the helm, 
and with the help of the wife of Perez slid the stark 
bodies of our companions over the wale into the 
phosphorescent water. She assisted me until each 
body was poised, and then stepping back, she mut- 
tered the service she had so many times heard her 
uncle say. Never can I forget her Madonna-like 
face, as gazing up at the moon she earnestly 
repeated those holy words. What a creature she 


196 REX WAYLAND’S fortune 

was! How unlike the woman who but a few hours 
before had exulted over her dying husband! She 
did not omit the holy rites even over the body of 
Perez. While I wept and trembled, she was dry- 
eyed and composed. We were now nearing a nar- 
rower channel, and must soon turn to the west, out 
through the straits of Anian. We rounded the point 
and bore west, but, as we did so, the clear sky, with 
its bright moon and twinkling stars, was hidden by 
the black clouds of the storm I had feared, and the 
fury of a tempest opposed us. It was of little use to 
attempt going farther, and with close-reefed sail we 
put back behind the point for shelter. By the time 
we had rounded it, the wind had changed and blew 
from the north with great violence. We were being 
driven back to the south. Just at early morning 
light we saw a bay to the south and east, and by 
great effort put in there. It was the bay at the 
southwest side of one of the great islands we had 
first rounded on penetrating this region, and I had 
never entered it before. It seemed a safe harbor, 
but to my horror, when once inside, I found it shal- 
low, and on the going out of the tide we stranded. 
The tide went lower, and with our deep keel we 
listed badly, a conspicuous object on all that wide 
flat. 

With daylight came an abatement of the wind, the 
sea outside still tossing, but the tide seemed still 
leaving us. Soon we were seen by natives on the 
eastern shore, and with motioned protestations of 
friendship, they came toward us. The Doha was 
for fight, but I overruled her, and we allowed them 


SPANISH DIARY CONTINUED 


197 


to come aboard. They were indeed friendly, and I 
was satisfied we had acted wisely, when across the 
sound to the southwest I saw a fleet of canoes com- 
ing from the very direction of the tragedy of the day 
before. Had they been two hours later, the tide 
must have righted us up and permitted us to escape. 
But the Indians, headed by Old Sealth, came first, 
and we were at their mercy. The Dona did not 
reproach me. On the contrary, she endeavored to 
cheer me, and has never since, during all these years 
of servitude and bitter trial, spoken one word other 
than kindly. 

The chief into whose hands we had at first fallen 
was Skagiticus, and he was friendly, as all these 
Indians would have been but for the cursed folly of 
Ferez. Sealth, however, was hy as tyee of all this 
region, as his son is to-day, and he compelled 
Skagiticus to hand us and the vessel over. Kakii 
Silma, the daughter of Skagiticus, and chief prin- 
cess of her tribe, now claimed the Dona as her slave, 
but Sealth was too shrewd to be thus balked. He 
asked for Kakii Silma as his second wife, and both 
she and the Dona later came to the royal palace, 
where the wedding took place. 

This capture, as I have related it, occurred in 
December of 1772, and the wedding of Old Sealth 
and Kakii Silma in March of 1773. I have kept the 
best record I could of the dates and years, but may 
be somewhat wrong in others except these, because 
at times I have been away on voyages and hunting 
trips with my masters, and have otherwise lived in 
such a manner that I could not be sure of a perfect 


! 9 g REX WAYLAND’S fortune 

record. Once I was ill fora time, and was delirious, 
but Dona Isabella kept the dates for me, and has 
since assured me I am correct. I have stated that 
during all these years I have spoken to no white 
person except Dona Isabella. I had forgotten. 
Four years ago, I went north some eighty miles, one 
of the suite of Sealth II., who since nearing man’s 
estate has greatly increased the sway of his family. 
It was in this way: Shortly after the marriage of 
Sealth I. to Kakii Silma, Chief Kitsap sought to 
overthrow the power of Sealth, and created a con- 
federacy among the Quilayutes and other tribes to 
the north and west. He did not fully succeed, but 
the confederacy lasted some fifteen years, when the 
tribes to the south and east banded together to 
attack Kitsap’s confederacy. Sealth II., young as he 
was, took active part in this movement, and aided 
his father in re-establishing the confederacy between 
the Duwamish tribes, which had been greatly weak- 
ened. The new confederacy met and defeated the 
western Indians under Kitsap, and the Sealths then 
took hostages from them, thus attacking Kitsap and 
all his allies. They were aided by Skagiticus, and 
were now at the head of a vast confederacy over 
which Sealth II. will one day, if he does not now, 
rule with a rod of iron. It was at the close of this 
war that Sealth II. set out for the Nootka country, 
north of the Straits of Anian, and threatened to 
desolate it unless they sent him hostages. This 
they did, and at the time of that treaty I met a 
white man named Maccay, who had been left behind 
by an East Indian merchantman and trader, com- 


SPANISH DIARY CONTINUED 


199 


manded by a Captain Hanna. Maccay was living 
with an Indian wife, and had learned enough of the 
Chinook jargon to converse somewhat with rne, 
although he was a Scotchman and I Spanish. He 
could not help me, nor prevail on young Sealth to 
let me go with him. He was to be called for the 
next spring, and promised to cause his people to 
come after me, but for some reason has never 
done so. 

I am still here, where I have been all these years. 
We are well treated, but in constant fear of being 
selected as sacrifices at some awful potlatch or gift- 
feast of these natives. At such times they offer up 
their dearest possessions to the great Tamahnawis, 
or evil spirit, which they believe dwells in the moun- 
tains to the west of us. The influence of Sealth II. 
and Kakii Silma, his stepmother, has twice saved us. 
Once Sealth II., or Sealth the Great, as he is now 
being called, would have given us up, but Kakii 
Silma was so furious and so determined that she 
prevailed against all, and we were saved. Several 
hostages and slaves from dependent tribes suffered 
instead. All stand in awe of this Kakii Silma, who 
has become in appearance an aged hag, and is a 
priestess; or as near it as her people ever allow a 
woman to be. She is something of a prophetess, is 
a ventriloquist, and a worker of tricks and charms, 
such as mystify all — even her husband. So long as 
she lives we are safe, for she and Dona Isabella are 
like sisters, rather than like mistress and slave. At 
the time Van Coovohr sailed in these waters, early 
this year, the second white person, as I believe, to 


200 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


explore this region, she would have offered us in 
exchange for gifts, as Doha Isabella implored, but 
was finally persuaded to keep us, and we were hid- 
den. We saw the ship at a distance — there may 
have . been more than one — as it cruised about for 
days, taking soundings and surveying, but we could 
not go to it, for we were prisoners under guard, in 
a hut on a high point between the river Duwamish 
and the sound. Here is the old-time stronghold of 
Sealth I., and to this place are we sent at the first 
appearance of white men. We are now browned by 
wind and weather, clothed, as are the savages, with 
skins of beasts, and speak their language^ I even 
think in it, although I can never forget dear old 
Seville and Spain. I wonder if my father and 
mother are yet living? They must be very old 
now, and have probably long ago given up as dead 
their poor son Andres. 

Here ended the main portion of the narrative, 
which reads as reproduced here, except that certain 
dates of the ending or beginning of entries have 
been dropped out. It seemed as if Tenorio had 
worked secretly at this book whenever opportunity 
offered. After the last entry there was a blank 
space of four pages. In fact, there was no more 
writing in the book, except on the front and back of 
what should have been a fly-leaf. On the back of 
this leaf, as has been stated, was the Latin proverb, 
“Culpam poena premit comes” — “Punishment surely 
follows crime.” On the front side of this leaf, 
in a small femipine hand, and inverted, as if the 


SPANISH DIARY CONTINUED 


201 


writer had hastily caught up the book, was this 
brief entry: 

“June — , 1793. — They have come with poor 
Andres bound. The rumblings of the mountain 
have been too violent. The Thunderbird must be 
appeased. Andres, I, and our three chests of 
treasure, must be sacrificed to satisfy it. The secret 
of the chests they do not know, nor shall they. The 
treasure Perez gave his soul for shall go into the 
crater with us. Kakii Silma is protesting outside, 
but she cannot triumph. I feel that we are doomed. 
We go to the place of the Great Elk Horns. These 
have never been taken down, and the Evil Tamah- 
nawis has not deigned to accept that sacrifice. We 
shall be hurled into the pit of bubbling water, which 
has no bottom. Jesu forgive! Mother of God the 
Glorified, Christ, and the Saints, be merciful ! They 
are coming. I hear their cries outside. I know our 
fate. Adios! Isabella.” 

On the corner, or commencing at the corner of 
another fly-leaf, and spreading out like a fan diag- 
onally across from top to the right edge of another 
fly-leaf, was a second entry in the same hand and 
apparently of a later date : 

“Young Sealth is to command the party. The 
neighboring tribes have each furnished a strong 
chief. A young man from each of the Selish clans, 
from the Semiahmoos, Lummies, Samish, Skagits, 
Snoqualmies, Nisquallies, Puyallups, Satsops, and 
other near-by tribes, will start from here, while 


202 


REX WAYLAND'S FORTUNE 


these will be met on the other arm of the sound at 
the base of the mountains by others from the 
Chehalis, Clallam, Cowlitz, Skokomish and Twana 
tribes. Kakii Silma, wild with grief and rage, is 
groveling at my feet. With her I leave this 
record, lest it be found and sacrificed with us. The 
chests— they are coming! Is ” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE DIARY DISCUSSED INTERESTING HISTORY “UN- 

CLE, i’m going to find that treasure” 

While Rex had been reading his translation, the 
original record had lain close to him, and this Mrs. 
Wayland now took up. Turning to the last entry, 
which had apparently been so hastily scrawled, she 
looked at it, and tears filled her eyes. “Poor lady! 
She was by this account a murderess, and yet she 
had as good an excuse as any one can have for such 
a hideous crime — a crime she seems to have been 
driven to commit and dearly suffered for. ’ ’ 

Uncle Festus, who had sat soberly all through the 
narrative, here heaved a long sigh, and looking dis- 
appointed, said: “I don’t see, folks, as we’re any 
nearer the treasure than we was afore. To be sure, 
we know what became of it, and we know it was treas- 
ure fer certain, but jest whar ’twas put, we ain’t any 
the wiser. I’m sorry now, Rex, I was so finicky as 
to make you put that book back. It was reely 
somethin’ we oughter made public then. I persoom 
now, some o’ them perfessers over to the university 
would be mighty glad to hev holt o' thet. ’’ 

“But they won’t get it, uncle. I’m well enough 
satisfied as things are. I always do like to hunt 
things out, and I’m going to find that treasure if it 
takes me years. I’ve always wanted to hunt up in 
those mountains, and now I’ve another object than 


203 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


204 

game. I’m going to hunt for that crater until 1 
find it.” 

“Ye don’t know the job ye’re gittin’ into, boy. I 
tell ye, ye can’t git back twenty mile from the coast 
ter save yer soul.’’ 

“I can go anywhere those Indians could.” 

“No, ye can’t. Ye ain’t got the stuff in ye them 
young bucks had. I tell ye, Sealth an’ that picked 
crowd he took didn’t compare much with these con- 
sumptive, bow-legged critters ye see round here 
these days. Ye kin ask any o’ the old-timers, an’ 
they’ll tell ye Sealth was a giant. Why! I’ve seen 
him drive an arrer clean through a two-inch plank, 
when he was past seventy year old. What couldn’t 
he a done when he was in his prime?” 

“And that reminds me, uncle. This record proves 
Sealth to have been fifteen or twenty years older 
than was generally supposed. You know the grave- 
stone over here at Old Man House cemetery says, 
‘Aged about eighty years.’” According to this 
account, which I believe can be taken ahead of all 
tradition or opinion, he was about twenty-five years 
old when he went up in the mountains with these 
people. If he was eighty when he died, in 1866, he 
must have been born in 1786. He certainly could 
not have led that band when he was seven years of 
age, nor could he have gone north to demand 
hostages of the Nootkas when he was from one to 
three years of age. He was probably twenty-five 
or thirty years old when he headed this party of 
sacrificers. His age, as he always spoke of it, 
was probably reckoned from the time he became 



206 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


•chief. I presume he had very little idea of time 
anyway. ’ ’ 

“These Siwash never hev,” laughed Uncle Festus. 
“I remember onct, I asked a plump young Klootch- 
man out the canal here a piece how old she was. She 
stopped an’ thought a minute, an’ then says, ‘ ’Bout 
two hundred year.’ Another ole chief over ’mong 
the Quilayutes informed me, grave as a deekin, that 
he wuz more’n three hundred year old, an’ said he 
remembered well when the Thunderbird sailed ’crost 
last time.’’ 

“Since I began this translation,” continued Rex, 
“I have been looking up the history of this coast 
pretty thoroughly. I find some very good works on 
it in the Seattle public library. Bancroft — not the 
great George, but Hubert Howe, of California — has 
written some twenty-five or thirty large volumes, 
mostly about Pacific coast matters. He gives all the 
myths as well as verified facts, and I think he and 
some others would be very glad of this record, for it 
shows that Carlos Perez made earlier and fully as 
important discoveries as did his cousin, the noted 
Juan, who, with Heceta and others, came up here in 
1773 and 1775. I believe Juan was pilot for Heceta 
on the last trip. Then there was Captain James 
Cook in 1778, a Spanish expedition by Artaga and 
Cuadra in 1779, another by the English under Cap- 
tain Hanna in 1785, one by the French under La 
Perouse the same year, only farther north. This 
man Hanna came back down the coast and left 
Maccay, the Scotchman Tenorio saw in 1785, and 
called for him one or two years later. If poor 


THE DIARY DISCUSSED 


207 


Tenorio had been a Scotchman or Englishman, 
instead of a Spaniard, whom the English hated, 
especially in this region where there was great 
rivalry, in all probability Maccay would have pre- 
vailed on Hanna to go in search of him. Captains 
Portlock and Dixon came over from India in 1786, 
with two small vessels, and took back with them 
2,600 of these sea otter skins, for which they 
received, even in those days, nearly $100 apiece.” 

“Pity they couldn’t a got the price they bring 
now,” interrupted Uncle Festus. “The last year 
fur trade circular quoted ’em at $500, an’ I under- 
stand they’re wutli $750 to $900 this year. I do 
know they brought $450 ten year ago, fer a boy out 
to’rds Townsend got two an’ paid a mortgidge on 
his father’s ranch with ’em.’’ 

“Yes, uncle. They were valuable and plenty, just 
as the seal is farther north to-day. The old records 
I have examined at odd times speak of them as ‘the 
only , animal on which no other beast than man 
preys.’ I was greatly interested in the history of 
the Hudson Bay Company, the most wonderful and 
successful business corporation that ever has existed. 
During the half century they were engaged in wip- 
ing out their competitor, the Northwest Company, 
they paid little if any dividends, but during all the 
rest of their existence, a period of two or three hun- 
dred years, they have paid all the way from ten to 
seventy per cent annual dividend, and have watered 
their stock pretty liberally too. John Jacob Astor, 
of New York, the man who laid the fortunes of the 
great Astor family, founded Astoria away back in 


208 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


1809, and I find him a mighty shrewd Dutchman. 
He competed with all these British fur men as best 
he could until right away after the War of 1812, 
when he took advantage of the popular feeling 
against everything British and secured such national 
legislation as drove them all over the line, while he, 
under the firm name of North American Fur Com- 
pany, enjoyed all their old-time privileges. He 
even went so far as to go to Montreal and purchase 
the posts of all British traders within the boundaries 
of the United States for a mere song, for the British 
could not battle against a law which declared that 
‘neither British traders nor British capital should be 
tolerated in United States territory, and that no 
British subject should be given license to trade in 
the United States.’ ” 

“Wall!” said Uncle Festus, with another sigh, “I 
don’t see but Rex has got about all the benefit outen 
this treasure hunt. He’s larned a lot o’ histry, an’ 
the Spanish lingo ter boot ” 

“Yes, and I’m going to find that treasure, Uncle 
Festus. You are not the man to abandon a thing 
because some little obstacle comes up. Think it 
over a day or two and I’ll go over to Peroux’s and 
take a preliminary excursion into the mountains. 
I’m sure he won’t lead me into danger; and I want 
an elk. Besides, I must see what those mountains 
are. According to your stories, they’re worse than 
the Cascades.” 

“Wuss’n the Cascades!” snorted the old man. 
“The Cascades ain’t a patch to ’em fer rough- 
ness, ’ ’ 


THE DIARY DISCUSSED 


209 


“Well! I’m going up about twenty miles, just to" 
see, anyway. I’ll start to-morrow if you can spare 
me, and I’ll be back in about a week. I think I’ll 
go to bed now. Good-night!” 


CHAPTER XXV 


PEROUX AND PERRY, TWO TYPICAL MOUNTAINEERS 

Rex will never forget just how Peroux looked that 
winter morning he met the boat at the mouth of the 
Ducquebush. On this occasion Peroux was not 
expecting company, but had, in the early morning 
light, ridden down the trail on one of his mares, 
knowing she could be trusted to stand while he tried 
a few shots at duck. 

As Rex’s boat pulled over past Black Point, old 
French Fred was out sweeping his net for his daily 
harvest of dog fish, and as he had secured enough 
livers to guarantee him a five-gallon can of oil at 
least, he was very happy, and consequently very 
talkative for him. He hailed the boat in his queer 
Franco- English, and insisted that they come ashore 
and eat with him. This hearty invitation they 
declined, leaving the old fellow far from pleased, 
for he is jealously hospitable. They rounded the 
point and pulled in toward the rent in the moun- 
tains, out from under whose banks of fog, the busy, 
brawling Ducquebush, via its half-dozen mouths, 
finds its way to the sea. The tide was nearly at its 
full, and the river seemed to gush out from between 
the mountains. In toward the center of the gap 
gleamed the white walls of a ranch house, while sev- 
eral great oxen stood out along shore, knee deep in 

swales, like statues of the sacred kine of India. A 
210 


TWO TYPICAL MOUNTAINEERS 


2 1 1 


mile or more away, on the other point of the bay, 
could be heard a woman’s voice calling- a great flock 
of fowl to their morning feed, while screaming 
white-winged gulls circled overhead, and myriads of 
water-birds skimmed here and there across the rolling 
waters. The east wind moaned among the tall fir 
trees which crowned the®rocky heights, and before 
it the eager tide was rushing in, making “rips” at 
all points where the river’s mouth met it. The 
breaking waves, thundering against the rocky shores, 
the moaning winds overhead, the screams of wild- 
fowl, all conspired to furnish a grand diapason, 
the echoes of which, at intervals of comparative 
silence, could be heard rolling far up along the 
mighty mountain ridges, stretching westward, up, 
up — even above the low hanging clouds. The boat 
finally headed up a narrow “slew,” when just 
ahead on the stiller water a flock of mallards was 
seen. 

“Pretty shot, if we’re close enough,” remarked 
one of the oarsmen. 

“Yes,” said Rex. “Pretty good distance, but in 
reach of a good rifleman.” As he spoke, the sharp 
crack of a rifle rent the air, and as two mallards 
struggled helplessly in the water, where they were 
left by their fleeing companions, Peroux arose from 
the reeds and advanced across the marsh to the 
slough. He made a fine picture as he came striding 
along. His service-scarred Ballard rifle he used as 
a staff. His thigh boots he had no need to pull up, 
as most men do when taking to a swamp, for they 
fitted his powerful thighs like the skin. His lumber- 



TWO TYPICAL MOUNTAINEERS 


213 


man’s blanket coat of strange glaring colors was 
held closely about his waist by the leather cartridge 
belt, from which hung his big Colt 45 revolver, also 
several ducks. His flannel shirt was open at the 
neck, displaying a throat shapely as a woman’s. 
From under his close-cropped mustache, his smile of 
welcome showed teeth white as milk, while that 
smile shone in the great blue eyes that looked out 
from under his brown slouch hat. 

“Wiegeht’s, all! Just pick up those birds for me. 
You compelled me to make a long shot, for those 
mallards were growing restless, but I got a head and 
a neck. That head I tried to line with a neck, but 
though holding verj^ fine I hardly expected to get it. 
Just a lucky shot, that’s all.” He fastened the two 
mallards with the other birds at his belt, and sling- 
ing a hundred pounds or more of Rex’s luggage on 
his shoulder, leaped from hummock to hummock 
back across the swale to firmer ground, calling first, 
‘‘Nell! Here, Nell!’’ and then, “Fan! O Fan!” 
There was a movement in the brush, and ambling 
slowly toward him came a pair of black mares, as 
deliberate as a pair of cows. Rex’s luggage was 
mainly in a long sleeping-bag or sack, and dividing 
the load to each end, Peroux put the sack across 
Nell’s back, and, picking up his rifle, announced 
himself ready for the trail. He was evidently disap- 
pointed that the whole boat load could not become 
his guests, but shook hands with each in his courteous 
way, and invited them to come and see him when 
possible. Then walking beside Nell, they took the 
trail, Fan following sleepily after, stumbling over 


214 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


the “corduroy” in the muddy places as if she were 
thirty years old instead of six. “Come on, Fan! 
You old cow!” Peroux shouted. “Just watch her, 
will you? If I was on her back, you'd think she was 
on springs. I’ve known her to run half the way 
home, when I had an armful of grub and other truck, 
and couldn’t hold her. Now, she’ll sleep all the way 
up the trail. ’ ’ 

Fan opened one eye to glance at him, and then 
closing if again, sleepily stumbled on. On the east- 
ern shore of the canal there had been no snow, and 
on this western shore there was none along the 
beach, nor for a mile back, but as they journeyed 
up the trail, they found after the first mile a few 
inches of it, and farther back, several feet. To the 
left the river roared, its foam occasionally showing 
white and sparkling between the great tree trunks. 
Close to the right the mountain ridge between the 
Ducquebush and Doseewallops reared its forest- 
covered back, while along the left bank of the river 
another range, fully as high, seemed to pierce the 
clouds. On every side was the sound of roaring waters. 
When the wind is in the east, the great fog banks 
will roll up against the mountains farther inland, 
and snow will fall faster than in almost any other 
place on earth. It may fall to a depth of six or eight 
feet, damp and clinging. Then the wind will swing 
to the west, and back over the mountain gap, where 
the river seems to rise, will pour other and blacker 
clouds. One would think that these would be colder, 
and that frozen snow would now fall, but not so. 
Warmed by the winds from the Japan current, they 


TWO TYPICAL MOUNTAINEERS 


3i5 


remain so until they reach the eastern slope again, 
but in passing the snow-ridge, the coolness causes 
them to discharge great quantities of rain. The 
blanket of snow so recently fallen begins to settle, 
and on all sides is heard the muffled fall from tree 
tops, or the mighty rumble, crash and roar of 
mingled snow and landslides from the sides of the 
precipitous mountains. The rills adown these 
mountain sides become raging torrents, and the 
Ducquebush tears through its canons with a subter- 
ranean roar that reminds one of a coming earth-- 
quake. There are few inhabitants in the Ducquebush 
valley. When some lumber camp is in operation 
there may be a population of thirty, including resi- 
dents along the beach, but ordinarily less than a 
score. The Ducquebush is absolutely without navi- 
gation unless its monster trout and salmon can be 
called navigators. They can and do force their 
way a few miles up, their flashing sides being seen 
amost any bright day, as they leap its waterfalls or 
force their way through its rushing rifts. No boat 
could live in it anywhere a mile from the coast. 
Even a saw-log is frayed and battered at the ends 
after coming down three miles. There are places, 
many of them not ten miles up, where a stick four 
feet long could not get through until dashed into 
slivers by the awful force of the waters. Yet the 
trout and salmon-trout make their way up several 
miles from the sea, and where they give up the 
attempt the smaller mountain trout take up the 
struggle and thrive, until, all things considered, the 
stream can be safely set down as one of the richest 


2 1 6 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


fishing streams in the world. Trout are taken from 
it both winter and summer, weighing all the way 
from one to twenty pounds, and of unsurpassed 
flavor. They are rather capricious of appetite, but 
when they are hungry any ordinary fisherman can 
take a back load in an hour or two, if he has tackle 
and skill enough to land them. A photograph of 
ten out of a catch of 175 pounds has been illustrated 
in several eastern sporting papers, and set down by 
people generally as a fisherman’s fake* but it was 
not, nor was it even more than ordinary, as any one 
who has visited this region can testify. But Rex 
was not after fish. Game, big game, was on his 
mind, and beguiled by Peroux’s pleasant conversa- 
tion, he found the hard journey through the deep 
snow not at all unpleasant. 

It was yet early morning when they turned from 
the trail into a little clearing which, in this growth 
of lofty timber, looked almost like a well. In the 
center of the clearing was Peroux’s cabin, 10x12 
feet, with a lean-to; from its stovepipe chimney 
smoke lazily rolled out into the humid atmosphere. 
Near the cabin was a shake barn, into which Fan 
found her way, but Nell knew enough to bear her 
load up to the door of the cabin, from which Berg- 
man, a smiling, stalwart Swede, strode forth in 
wooden shoes to greet them. 

“Where’s Perry?’’ called out Peroux. 

“He be out honting, I gaas. Yoost a meenit ago 
Meester Perry he coom runnin’ in, an’ say noteeng, 
but tak down Oncle Sam. He go that way, an’ I 
think ’ ’ 


TWO TYPICAL MOUNTAINEERS 


217 


“Boom!” sounded a heavy gun, apparently on the 
mountain side, two thousand feet or more above 
their heads and not a mile distant, while up the 
narrow valley rolled the echoes. 

“ He got soom game,” finished the Swede, 

who had held his breath from the second of the 
interruption. Peroux kept on unpacking and said 
nothing. A few minutes later there was a sound of 
falling dirt and a cracking in the brush up the 
mountain side, when Peroux remarked : “I guess 
that’s him. He’s sliding along down. Must be he’s 
got something.” Fifteen minutes later Perry wal- 
lowed into the clearing, a two hundred pound buck 
across his back. He had opened the animal and 
removed its entrails, thus lightening it as much 
as possible, but it was still a large load for a short 
man in deep snow, and he was sweating' like a 
horse. 

“You will kill deer an’ pack ’em in, will you? 
Good enough for you. You ought to sweat. Drop 
your load an’ come up an’ shake hands with Mr. 
Wayland,” called out Peroux. Perry came forward, 
trailing his 45-90 Springfield through the snow, and 
Rex was soon aware that the little man had enough 
strength left to nearly crack the bones of his hand. 
Perry was short — “about carbine length, ” as Peroux 
expressed it — but he was stocky, and, though thin 
in flesh, weighed about one hundred and eighty 
pounds. His eyes were black and glittering, and 
his face like Peroux ’s — clean-shaven, except for a 
mustache. This, unlike Peroux’s close-cropped tuft, 
was long, thick and very black. Perry was not yet 


2l8 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


forty, and was in the very prime of his powers, 
as woodsman, trapper, and fisherman. With his 
hat on he looked even younger than Peroux, 
but this removed he looked older, for the reason 
that, while Perry’s hair was a trifle thin about 
the temples, Peroux’s tawny pompadour, thick as 
an elk’s mane, stood up like that of the typical 
German student, seemingly adding to his lofty 
stature. 

Perry had been a professional fisherman for years on 
the Columbia before the hard times drove him up 
into the mountains; many will remember him as one 
of the most clever woodsmen and fishermen ever 
met. Like Peroux, he was the very soul of honor, 
generous to a fault, and had not a single bad habit, 
not even using tobacco. He was absolutely fear- 
less, and as long as he lives the “bad man” who 
“tangles” with him will either take a back seat, kill 
him, or be killed. 

Peroux, though thirty-three years of age, was a 
bachelor, and Rex could but notice how handily 
he did the work about the cabin. Perry was also a 
bachelor, and, if anything, handier than Peroux, 
being able to cook and bake quickly and well, either 
over a cabin stove or about a camp fire. The Swede 
was the stand-by of the two for housework, but when 
they wished to do honor to a guest, as was the case 
now, Peroux entertained, while Perry brewed, 
baked, boiled, or fried. Such a dinner as was that first 
one Rex ate! He had never been so hungry before, 
and victuals had never tasted better. He was soon 
to find, however, that there are grades, even to an 


TWO TYPICAL MOUNTAINEERS 


219 


enormous appetite, and that the man who goes 
mountain climbing eats more than the plainsman, 
or even the man along shore. It was decided that 
they should start up the river the next morning at 
as early an hour as they could see, and they began 
no make preparations immediately after dinner. 
They expected to be out a week, or near it, and must 
pack blankets, provisions and a small tent. While 
Peroux and Perry could each pack at least a hundred 
pounds, they knew that Rex, a tenderfoot, would do 
well if he carried sixty. They therefore estimated 
the pack at two hundred and sixty, and set to work. 
Tent, blankets, cooking utensils and a change of cloth- 
ing weighed nearly one hundred, and were quite 
bulky. Beans, flour mixed with baking powder, 
potatoes fried in fat and put in fin cans, coffee, 
sugar, oatmeal, rice, pepper, salt, bacon, etc., 
weighed about one hundred pounds more. Then 
there was a bear-trap weighing about forty pounds, 
three smaller weighing about ten each, and 
twenty pounds of venison from the less choice 
portions, which they intended to use as bait for the 
traps. 

When these preparations were concluded, it was 
nearly dark, and they gathered round for supper and 
yarns. The meal dispatched, every man leaned back 
in his chair, and story telling began, while the Swede 
cleared the table and washed the dishes. Perry and 
Peroux had each seen much of rough life on the 
plains and in the mountains, and an evening with 
them was one never to be forgotten. There was no 
boasting, only the plain narration of such adventures 


220 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE. 


as thrilled. Even the stolid Swede grew excited, 
and, pausing with dish in one hand and dishcloth 
in the other, listened, his mouth open and his 
great white eyes bulging. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


PACKING IN THE MOUNTAINS PERRY PRODS A TENDER- 

FOOT 

The first day of packing in the mountains is quite 
likely to impress itself on a tenderfoot’s mind. 
The packs Rex, Perry and Peroux carried were made 
up in gunny sacks, great care having been taken to 
so pack the hard articles that the folds of blanket or 
tent cloth would come between them and the back. 

The pack straps, which were of strips of gunny 
sack folded broadly, seemed easy on the carrier at 
the start, but within an hour Rex felt as if his 
shoulders were being torn off, while his shoulder- 
blades were rubbing together with a keen and con- 
stant pain. He wondered how his companions could 
stand such torture, but later learned by experience 
that to one accustomed to the work such a pack has 
absolutely no terrors. It is astonishing how soon 
one becomes accustomed to the strain. An experi- 
enced mountaineer, a man of ordinary weight, will 
sometimes pack half a horse load, or near it, and 
that, too, for ten or twelve hours a day. To be more 
exact, a large pack horse will pack three hundred 
pounds over a fair trail, and a small one, or cayuse, 
two hundred pounds. The rough work they will 
cheerfully endure, the logs and rocks they will jump 
or scramble over are astonishing. A good carrier 

will pack from seventy-five to one hundred pounds 
- f 221 


222 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


if he be a man of moderate size, but there are 
giants among these fellows who will pack one 
hundred and fifty to two hundred. 

The articles to be packed are first collected. Then 
a gunny sack is held mouth open by one man, while 
another folds a blanket the long way and from one 
to two feet wide. Placing his hand in the middle of 
this blanket thus folded, he thrusts it down to the 
bottom of the sack, leaving the ends sticking out 
about a foot on each side' of its mouth. Another 
blanket similarly folded is pushed down across this, 
the ends sticking out at the other two sides of the 
sack. Next comes a can of coffee or sugar or some 
other hard article, which is pushed well down to the 
bottom of the sack on top of the blankets. Then 
another and another, until the sack is nearly full 
and solidly packed. The ends of the blankets are 
then brought over and carefully tucked in. Next, 
with a sharp stick and a string, the top of the sack 
is laced shut. A strong strap is now buckled round 
the sack at each end about a half-foot in toward the 
center. Hooped through each strap lengthwise of 
the sack are two broad bands or hoops of gunny 
sack. The pack is next set up on a rock or log and 
the packman, putting a hand through either band, 
proceeds to wriggle and twist himself until he has 
worked one band well onto each shoulder. Then 
he rises to his feet, gives himself a shake, settling the 
sack well down on his hips and, grasping his rifle 
as a counterbalance, is ready for a tramp or climb. 
He usually travels in a half bent posture, and some 
packmen prefer to wear what is known as a turning 



224 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


strap (a band about the forehead) to help bear the 
strain of the load. Before starting, every ounce of 
superfluous clothing has been removed, no matter 
how cold the weather, and even then the packman 
sweats as he has not perspired before since he car- 
ried his last pack. 

There was no trail up the Ducquebush River for 
any great distance beyond Peroux’s cabin, except a 
game trail, and that was not clearly defined. A 
game trail is the path made by elk, deer or bear, 
and while it may be well worn in certain places, in 
others entirely disappears. It will therefore be seen 
that a game trail is but a trifle better than the path- 
less woods. A Puget Sound forest is as near the 
impenetrable in places as any on earth. The Cuban 
machete would be put to a severe test in removing 
its vine maple, devil’s club or sallal. The Ducque- 
bush River valley is practically impassable for man 
or horse. In fact, three men could not in two 
months cut and make a horse pack trail twelve miles 
up this valley from the sound. Very few men had 
ever penetrated this region a distance of fifteen or 
sixteen miles, as Peroux, Perry and Rex now pro- 
posed doing. To follow the river was impossible, 
for jutting rocks, deep canons, projecting and 
overhanging vine maple and other obstructions 
absolutely prevented progress. They must take to 
the side of the mountains, and clamber along as best 
they could, ploughing through deep snow, fording 
swollen runs, scrambling under and over logs, and 
picking the way along the face of precipices. Is it any 
wonder that they consumed fully ten hours in mak- 


PACKING IN THE MOUNTAINS 


225 


ing that twelve miles? Is it any wonder that sturdy 
Rex, even with his light pack, was nearly dead with 
fatigue when they paused soon after dark on a grassy 
knoll, surrounded on all sides by the gloomy, tower- 
ing forest? 

That they were at the foot of a mountain more 
lofty than its fellows, more precipitous and with 
less snow except at its top, which had been the 
greater portion of the afternoon above the clouds, 
Rex well knew, for he had noted it as they 
approached. Now the moon had risen, and seemed 
sailing along the broken ridge, straight toward the 
west. As it came nearer, its pure beams illuminated 
and colored an ivory tint a mighty waterfall, which 
fell sheer eight hundred feet from the northern sky 
line. That the roaring river was far beneath Rex 
knew also, for occasionally, as the circling winds 
swept down from the west, the tremendous thunder 
of the waterfall ceased in part, while up from far 
below came roars, wailings, and clouds of mist, 
which last in the bright moonlight made fanciful 
shadows on the face of the awful precipice opposite. 
He was too tired to ask questions, and, lying there 
on the frozen ground, nearly fell asleep, even while 
looking and listening. 

Perry had broken off some spruce splinters as they 
came along, and he now busied himself in starting a 
fire. He had built it close to a huge rock, and with 
a hatchet he now hewed off pieces of green fir bark, 
which burned readily and with a heat greater than 
that of wood or coal. In a half-hour, Perry, by the 
use of a handspike, had pried off enough bark to last 


226 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


all night, and Peroux had prepared supper. Their 
noonday meal had been only a cold lunch, and it 
seemed to Rex as if he had never tasted anything so 
good as the hot coffee, dough-gads and butter and 
beans now given him. Having eaten, he fell asleep 
on the blankets, and the pair, realizing his condition 
of exhaustion, put up the tent over him. 

“Better wake him up. He’ll ketch cold there,” 
said Perry. 

“Yes; raise him one. He ought to roll up better 
than that before he sleeps. ’ ’ Perry thereupon 
“raised him one” with a packstrap, and smarting, 
Rex sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

“Morning yet?” he inquired. “Must be, for I’m* 
hungry.” 

“Hungry, eh? and not two hours past supper. 
Your stomach’s all right. You’ll stand the racket,” 
laughed Peroux. Rex advanced to the fire, yawning. 

“Any snakes round here?” he enquired, as he 
rolled up in his blanket and stretched out. He did 
not see Perry wink at Peroux, and almost instantly 
forgot that no one had answered his question, 
because of a snake story Perry began to tell. 

“Speakin’ o’ snakes, makes me think of an experi- 
ence o’ mine. One night, arter a hard day’s chase 
arter strays — hosses, they was — I camped down in a 
place summat like this, an’ havin’ no supper, ner 
stuff fer it, I jest tethered my kyuse an’ rolled up 
in my blanket, Nez Perce fashion. I rolled right 
under the ledge fer warmth, an’ jest nacherly 
dropped off. I dunno how long I slep’, but I was 
waked up byfeelin’ su thin’* heavy crawlin’ ’cross my 


PACKING IN THE MOUNTAINS 


227 


legs outside the blanket. Then I heerd a faint rat- 
tle, an’ the chills began perambylatin’ up an’ down 
my backbone marrer. But I lay. Fer why? I 
dassent stir. Jest then another — this time a whop- 
per, wriggled along over my middle, an’ afore he 
got off me, another went ’crost my shoulders, so 
near I smelt the cuss. But that wusn’t the wust of 
it. I lay with my back to the rock, my ole hat 
pulled down well behind an’ turned up in front so’s 
I cud breathe. I wuzn’t breathin’ very heavy, how- 
ever. Then I felt one start across the back o’ my 
head, outside my hat. That feller was a whale, an’ 
I reckon he must ’a ben a mile long, more or less. 
Anyhow, he went slow an’ right acrosst the side o’ 
my bare forrard, where the hat was rolled up. As 
he went, I helt my breath, but I found myself 
a-sayin’ in my mind that ole rule, ‘Twelve inches 
make one foot; three foot one yard;’ and so on. 
What’d I do then? Why! what could I do but git 
out o’ that? I knowed there was a clean drop o’ one 
hundred and fifty foot right off about twenty or 
thirty foot from the face o’ the ledge I was layin’ 
aginst — I was sleepin’ on a bench, ye see, an’ I kalker- 
lated to start ezfur to’rd that as I dared, then scrab- 
ble to my feet an’ skin out. My body hed warmed up 
a snakes’ nest, an’ that they was all round me, I wuz 
sure. Well! I pulled up my blankit, an’ with a 
short prayer, as the story writers say, I started^ 
rolled as fur as I dared over snakes an’ everythin’, 
an’ then, kickin’ loose from that there blankit, I run 
like a whitehead fur my kyuse. He was snortin’ an* 
pullin’ at his tether. I cut him loose, scrambled 


228 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


onto his back, an’ let him go, an’ when he’d gone 
fur enough, so I thought we was safe, I stopped him 
an’ set on him till daylight I wuzn’t sleepy nur 
nothin’ — you bet!” 

As Perry finished his story, Rex began to feel 
uneasy. Peroux, who was rolled up in his blanket, 
was apparently in a deep reverie. Rex looked 
expectantly at him, awaiting the story that always 
followed an effort from Perry. But he waited in 
vain. Once Peroux opened his mouth, but again 
shut it as if at a loss to know just how to begin. At 
this instant Rex felt something wriggle right under 
him, and bounding like a rubber ball, finally 
scrambled to his feet to find both Perry and Peroux 
shaking with laughter. The former had a long stick 
in his hand, with which he had been prodding the 
tenderfoot, after filling him full of his snake story. 
Rex’s face had been white as milk, but it now 
became red with shame and anger, as running over 
he kicked Perry two or three times, the latter mak- 
ing no resistance, but laughing until he could not 
sit up. 

“Was that snake story all a lie, Perry?” 

“No, sir! True as preachin’,” gasped Perry, and 
then he rolled over and over in an ecstasy of mirth. 

“Where and when did it happen? Anywhere 
about here?” 

“No! no! Goodland, no! There ain’t any snakes 
this side o’ the Cascades. That what I was a-tellin’ 
happened over in the Yakima country, where they’re 
thicker’n smelt in a school.” 

Perry and Peroux now told other stories, but all 


PACKING IN THE MOUNTAINS 


229 


the evening they were full of tickle at nothing, 
breaking out frequently, and Rex, losing his anger 
and realizing the harmless fun in the joke, even 
though it was at his expense, laughed too. Finally 
all rolled up in blankets and slept the sweet sleep 
of extreme weariness. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


AFTER ELK ABOVE THE CLOUDS PEROUX’S WONDERFUL 

NERVE REX GETS AN ELK 

It was a weird place where our three hunters slept 
that night, and hardly a safe place for sleep-walkers, 
as Rex found when they awoke the next morning. 
As he lay there after opening his eyes, the daylight 
was slowly settling down from the peaks about him, 
though he and all about the camp were as yet in 
gloom. The fire had died down somewhat, and 
must have been entirely out but for the care of 
Peroux and Perry, for Rex knew that his own slum- 
ber had been unbroken. There was a goodly quantity 
of bark lying near, and getting up carefully, so as 
not to disturb his companions, he threw some on the 
hot coals. He was about to lie down again, when he 
saw a movement in the brush, about forty yards 
distant, and grasped his rifle. But the object did 
not show itself. Once he fancied he detected the 
gleam of a great pair of yellow eyes, but could not 
distinguish the outlines of a head, and did not care 
to fire for fear of ridicule. 

Daylight was now fast coming on, and the stars 
which had lingered in the blue vault above began to 
grow faint and yet fainter, and finally faded away 
altogether. Rex now got up and began looking 
about him. 

Their camp was on a plateau of half an acre — a 


230 


AFTER ELK ABOVE THE CLOUDS 


231 


bench of the mountain to the northwest — covered 
with yellow bunch grass. The mountain was 
almost devoid of timber, except here and there a 
bunch or strip extending up some slanting run. 
And what a mountain it was! How gray and 
grandly terrible its bare, rocky ledges looked in the 
early morning! They suggested the massive battle- 
ments of some lofty fortress, only no fortress was 
ever constructed five thousand feet or a mile high. 
The big bottom they had entered at four o’clock of 
yesterday was far below their camp, and the tops of 
its immense growth of fir looked like a piece of 
plush. To the right and far below, he could see 
something white — a long, narrow, zigzag streak, 
and this he soon recognized as the rushing river. 
It showed itself in other places far down toward the 
sound, and he now realized that what he had at first 
taken for a strip of fog or cloud was in reality the 
canal away out opposite Seabeck, twenty-five miles 
distant. “The Seabeck people may have seen our 
campfire last night,’’ he muttered. 

“No, they didn’t, fer ’twas cloudy till long after 
midnight — cloudy down below and clear up here.” 
Rex turned with a start, and saw Perry’s bright 
black eyes wide open, that individual having awak- 
ened without a stir. “Jest crawl out back o’ the fire 
thar a hundred yards, an’ peek over. Be keerful an’ 
don’t roll off, fer it’s a drop, I tell ye.’’ 

Rex did as he was told, and hanging hard on a 
sturdy scrub pine, peered down into the most awful 
depth he had ever seen. Apparently a half-mile 
or more sheer down, he could faintly distinguish 



HOW GRAY AND GRANDLY TERRIBLE IT LOOKED. 

232 



AFTER ELK ABOVE THE CLOUDS 


233 


the foaming, roaring river. At times its mists 
entirely obscured it and rolled up about his head like 
steam from some vast cauldron, but again, as the 
soughing winds swept through, the view was clear 
and such as to cause one unused to such scenes to 
shudder. Though he did not know it, Rex was 
gazing down one of the most stupendous precipices 
in all America. After a last long look, he reached 
behind him, took a firm hold on the tree with the 
other hand and carefully withdrew from the brink. 
After crawling away on his hands and knees, he 
finally arose and ran to the fire, to find Peroux awake 
and Perry busy preparing breakfast. As they 
cooked and ate, they talked and laid plans for the day. 

“I kalkerlate they’s a band o’ elk on some o’ the 
benches o’ this mountain,” remarked Perry, “an’ 
’fore night we’ll know. I ’in goin’ to crawl up over 
that sky line within four or five hour, an’ take a 
squint out over the country. Goin’ to be a nice day 
fer it too.” 

“All right!” returned Peroux. “Rex and I will 
go out to the ravine up back of the bottom down 
there, and crawl up to the gap that shows yonder. 
If we don’t do anything better, we may get a crack 
at a whistling pig.” 

“A whistling pig? What are they, Mr. Peroux? 
Do wild pigs live on these mountains?” 

“No, Wayland. Correctly speaking, they are 
marmots. There is a band of them, or used to be, 
over on that snow peak yonder; and there’s an old 
crater over beyond, that is now a small lake, and 
that is worth a climb to see.” 


234 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


“A crater? And have you ever been to it?” 

‘‘Oh, yes; two or three times. I don’t believe the 
thing has any bottom. It’s a gloomy looking hole, 
about two hundred yards long and fifty wide. It 
lays just over the divide on the other slope. ’ ’ 

‘‘Did you ever see any great elk horns there? — any 
big ones?” 

‘‘Don’t know as I have. I presume, though, we 
might find some, and big ones too. They’re all 
through these woods. I find a pair or a single one 
every little while, though I never pack ’em down. 
They’re not worth it. But why do you expect to 
find elk horns there?” 

Rex felt himself blushing, and hardly knew what 
to say. Finally he answered, ‘‘Why, I’ve heard a 
yarn about a monster pair of horns that the Indians 
hung up in a tree once near such a crater, and I 
wanted to find them, that’s all.” 

‘‘A case of the pot of gold at the end of a rain- 
bow,” laughed Peroux. ‘‘Well! there are no trees 
near this crater — above the tree line, ye know, 
although I believe there’s a bunch of brush at one 
side of the pond. It’s a bleak, desolate place, but 
I suppose there are others just like it back in these 
hills. I never met anybody that had found them, 
though ; but then neither have I met anybody that 
had rambled about much in this region. ’ ’ 

After breakfast, the provisions were all put in a 
sack, and pulled by a long rope up over the end of 
the nearest high limb, out of reach of wild beasts, 
and with a piece of bread and venison in their pockets 
for lunch, the three left camp for a day’s climb. 


AFTER ELK ABOVE THE CLOUDS 


2 35 


Peroux, knowing Rex to be unused to such work, 
took him with him, and chose an easy, or compara- 
tively easy, route, while Perry, who revelled in 
dangerous mountain climbing, went alone up runs 
and crevices and along benches, ever higher and 
higher, until, from the valley below, through which 
Peroux and Rex were making their way, he looked 
like a fly crawling along at that awful height. It 
was nearly nine o’clock when Peroux -and Rex, hav- 
ing made their way down and through the big bot- 
tom, turned sharply to the north and passed the 
mouth of the small ravine mentioned in the morn- 
ing. This ravine is not wide, and yet one of the 
deepest, wildest, gloomiest holes in all these moun- 
tains. 

To the southwest of it runs a dirt elk trail, zig- 
zagging up a slope that even an elk could not climb 
except by the trick these animals have of turning 
first to the right and then to the left about every 
fifty feet. There was much snow in the bottom, 
but on the wind-swept and sun-kissed side of this 
exceedingly steep mountain there was none, except 
occasionally a patch here and there on the benches. 
They peered up into the ravine as they passed its 
mouth. Clouds hung over it, at a height of eight 
hundred to one thousand feet, giving it almost the 
appearance of a cave, so far as light was concerned. 
It was indeed a gloomy cavern, and they did not 
linger long about its damp entrance, but struck 
straight up the sharp slope to the northeast toward 
the divide. It took three hours of hard climbing to 
reach the crater just over the divide on the Dosee- 


236 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


wallop’s side, and here they ate their dinner. There 
were, as Peroux had said, no trees near, and not 
much to see, except a dark cavern of unknown 
depth, filled with water. It was very chilly up there, 
and they soon commenced climbing up to the divide 
and down the other side again. 

They had reached the bottom, and were slowly 
walking along between the great tree trunks, from 
six to twelve .feet in diameter and of tremendous 
height, when Peroux whistled softly and knelt down. 
The forest, though gloomy, was quite open, yet Rex 
had seen nothing. Not so with Peroux, who, as he 
sank on one knee, looked like a. statue. Slowly — 
without a single quick motion, he raised his rifle. 

“It’s a buck!’’ whispered Peroux. “I got him 
right back o’ the shoulder, and while he smells us 
an’ maybe sees us, he thinks we can’t see him, and 
he won’t break cover. Want a shot? If you do, 
take it quick. I’ll save him if you miss.” 

“Let him have it!’’ whispered Rex. “I can’t see 
anything.’’ As he spoke Peroux’s rifle cracked, and 
out from the deeper shadow sprang a big buck, to 
immediately fall and lie kicking and quivering by 
turns; a 38-55 bullet having passed through one edge 
of his heart. 

“Wanted you to have that shot, but couldn’t 
wait,’’ said Peroux, in even tones, while Rex was 
so excited he could hardly talk. As Peroux knifed 
the animal, he remarked: “He’s ours. Now, while 
I gut him and pack him up to camp, do you take a 
ramble out around through this snow bottom and 
see if you can discover any signs of elk. If any 


AFTER ELK ABOVE THE CLOUDS 


2 37 


have crossed the river within two or three miles, 
they’ve gone through this bottom. Look sharp, and 
work fast. We’ve only an hour or two of daylight 
down here. ” 

Off to the south Rex could hear the river roaring, 
and he struck across the flat in that direction. He 
soon reached the river and began working along 
up-stream, some distance back from the water, for 
it was impossible to travel near the water’s edge. 
He had reached a point not more than five hundred 
yards from the great gap in the mountain, where the 
river tore its way through, when he saw in the snow 
a sight which caused his heart to beat fast. There 
before him was a trail as broad as if a dozen oxen 
had tramped along. He followed it, and soon found 
fresh “signs,” showing that the animals had passed 
that way very recently. It led straight toward the 
first bluff, which, bald and gray, reared its head 
above the tree tops, and he soon found where the 
herd had taken to a bush-covered run and worked 
up to the first, bench, which, at a height of one 
thousand feet or less, seemed to run along the side 
of the entire mountain. To this bench he and his 
companions had ascended by way of a run some 
distance back northeast, and from that bench by 
another run to a second and broader bench, where 
was the camp. Running along this first bench to 
this second run, he ascended that and reached camp 
just at nightfall, to find both Peroux and Perry at 
work preparing supper and cutting the meat off the 
buck Peroux had killed. The news he brought 
caused considerable excitement, and after supper 


238 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


they laid plans for the hunt on the morrow. It was 
agreed that the elk, led by a big bull, whose track 
was an inch and a half wider than Rex’s rifle stock, 
had gone out along this bench after coming up from 
the river, and ascended the mountain. The next 
morning Perry was to go out to the summit again, 
and Peroux and Rex were to work their way up the 
dirt trail to the left of the ravine. 

The following morning was misty, the clouds 
hanging low over the valley and driven up it by a 
gentle east wind, and when at eight o’clock Peroux 
and Rex had ascended to a height of three thousand 
feet by the dirt trail, they found themselves in 
clouds so thick they could not see fifty yards ahead. 
On all fours they were toiling along when out from 
the mist above shot a boulder as big as a small wash- 
tub and went tumbling down over the soft earth 
trail, missing them by but a few feet. 

“They’re above us somewhere!’’ whispered 
Peroux. “Some one of ’em rubbing on that boulder 
has started it. We’re on the right trail, but we 
must go out to the left and make up over those 
benches. Follow me!’’ and he darted to the left. 
Rex followed for a quarter of a mile or more, on a 
brisk trot, and then scrambled up an almost perpen- 
dicular run after Peroux to the bench above. It 
seemed as if the agile young German possessed the 
powers of a cat, so swiftly and quickly did he go up; 
but at the next bench he paused, and leaning over 
gave Rex a helping hand. 

“This next one’s a tough one, but we’ve got to 
make it. I’ll put you up ahead,’’ and he whirled 


AFTER ELK ABOVE THE CLOUDS 


239 


Rex around, facing an almost perpendicular wall of 
rock, up which ran a crevice, about the shape, size 
and slant of a very steep house roof-gutter. “Now! 
up you go!” Rex toiled up as best he could for 
several hundred feet, every minute finding this run, 
in which there was not so much as a bush, shrub or 
piece of moss, growing narrower and steeper. 
Luckily, it was covered on both sides with small 
knobs about the size of a goose egg, and on these he 
set his toes and clung to them with his fingers. 
Suddenly he noticed that the wind had swept the 
clouds aside, and as he glanced over his shoulder, 
saw the forest apparently almost straight down, a 
mile and a half below. 

“Peroux! I can’t go farther!” he gasped. “Let’s 
climb down !” 

“Great Guns, man! a cat couldn’t climb down. 
We’ve got to go up. Go ahead! Put your face 
close to the rock and hang on hard; I’ll place your 
feet.” 

Their guns were fast over their backs, and as Rex 
glanced down between his own knees and saw the 
face of his heroic companion, jaws set and determi- 
nation in every lineament, it gave him new courage. 
Suddenly a new thought struck him, and he nearly 
let go, so sick was he with terror. 

“Mr. Peroux, suppose this crevice ends up above 
us. I tell you, I’m weak. You’d better let me 
tumble back over your head and save yourself if 
you can. ” 

Peroux’s blue eyes fairly blazed ; and there in that 
awful predicament, between heaven and earth, he 


24 ° 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


yelled: “Why, man! Where’s your geology? I 

studied mine before I came out, and I tell you these 
mountains never cooled in that way. These crevices 
run clear up, and there’s where you’re going if I 
have to pack you. If you go down, I go with you. 
Climb, now, and no more squealing. ’ ’ 

Rex, with Peroux’s hands clasped about his 
insteps, did climb, and in twenty minutes — it seemed 
is many hours — lay side by side with Peroux on a 
bench above, pale and panting. “I — I wouldn’t do 
t — th — at again for all the elk in Christendom, Mr. 
Peroux. ’’ 

“ ’Twas a little risky,’’ Peroux admitted, with a 
sickly smile. “Didn’t know exactly what we were 
getting into. We’re pretty near the summit of the 
highest mountain round here now. What d’ye think 
of that view? Isn’t it grand?’’ And the young 
mountaineer stood with dilated nostrils as he sur- 
veyed one of the most sublime panoramas in all that 
grand country. 

At their feet, her benches hidden from view, fell 
off the mountain for five thousand feet or more, to 
the plateau or wide bench where they had encamped. 
The edges of the two thousand foot canon, just 
beyond, looked like a seam or gash in the rock, and 
out of it slowly rose the mists, like steam from some 
subterranean cauldron. Where the mountains fell 
away to the east again the river appeared, gushing 
forth, white with foam, but so far below that its roar 
came up faintly. Round a low mountain, it wound 
to the left and was lost for a few miles. Abreast of 
this mountain, and surging up against it, were two 


AFTER ELK ABOVE THE CLOUDS 


241 


mighty landslides, from the higher range. These 
slides were three miles apart, but apparently lay side 
by side, their slimy soapstone bottoms gleaming 
yellow and ghastly in the sunlight. Between them 
was a forest of deepest green, with here and there a 
protruding rock. Beyond was more forest, and here 
and there a loop or bend of the glistening river. 
Then came the great sound, the smoke arising from 
the sites of Tacoma, Seattle, and Everett, and 
beyond all was the towering Cascade range, snow-clad 
and cloud-flecked. They had forgotten the elk, so 
absorbed were they in this wild panorama, when, 
“Boom!” came the report of a rifle. An interval of 
silence followed, except for the echoes rolling along 
the adjacent ridges and between the crags. Then 
again — ‘ ‘ Boom ! ’ ’ 

“It’s Perry, and he’s let Sam off twice. Must be 
the band of elk, ’ ’ exclaimed Peroux, showing more 
excitement than at any time yet. “Look there! 
What’s that?” he continued, excitedly pointing 
through the cloud banks that had begun to roll up 
again. Rex looked and beheld a sight such as few 
people have ever seen. Just out beyond them began 
the ravine, which seemed to have in part cleft this 
massive upheaval. Up this ravine, the clouds were 
drifting, the jagged rocks on the other side showing 
through here and there. And now, in the midst of 
these clouds and apparently walking on them, in 
fact, right out over that yawning chasm, appeared a 
herd of gigantic elk — gigantic, because ten times 
larger than any animal on earth. Not far behind 
pursued a hunter of proportionate size. It was 


242 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


Perry, and the sun and clouds, by some mystery of 
reflection or refraction, had magnified both him and 
the game he hunted. 

The clouds now rolled up thicker, obscuring the 
sun, and the elk were hidden. Evidently they were 
making for the head of the ravine and coming north- 
east, straight toward Peroux and Rex. Just where 
they would come — whether along the summit or 
along the highest bench, on which they were stand- 
ing — it was hard to say. It was hurriedly agreed 
that Peroux should climb to higher ground, while 
Rex went out along the narrow bench which ran 
round the precipice. As Peroux clambered up, Rex 
made his way along through the thick rolling fog. 
In places the bench was thirty feet wide, but in 
others not more than thirty inches. He was making 
his way round a point, where the bench was cer- 
tainly not more than three feet in width, when just 
ahead of him, from out of the fog, rushed a gigantic, 
fiery-eyed elk, closely followed by others. Rex 
dodged back behind the point, cocked his rifle, and 
had not time to bring it to his shoulder when the 
animal came abreast of him. With the muzzle 
almost touching its great mane, Rex fired. That 
elk never made the turn, but pierced through with 
a 40-82 ball, from a point before the left shoulder to 
another back of the third rib, leaped wildly out into 
the fog, over that cloud-covered brink, and shot 
down out of sight. It seemed to Rex fully thirty 
seconds before the body struck with a sound not 
unlike that of a bag of bones on the cruel rocks, 
and then went clattering on down, a mile or more. 


AFTER ELK ABOVE THE CLOUDS 


243 


The remainder of the herd never paused, but went 
round that point with great bounds as free from 
fear of falling as if on level bottom far below. 

“That’s the way to get big game down off the side 
of a mountain,’’ sang out Peroux. As he reached 
the point where Rex stood, still trembling, he ex- 
claimed, “Lucky for you, young fellow, you had that 
point of rock to dodge behind, else you’d gone down 
before the bull. Come on! Let’s get out of this.’’ 

They found the elk, a mass of broken bones and 
battered flesh, lodged on a bench, at least three 
thousand feet below. Perry, who had wounded 
another elk twice, but failed to get him, joined them 
within an hour or two, and helped in stripping off 
the good meat from the bones. The once kingly 
antlers were a wreck, and the hide was so full of 
holes as to be of no value, but from the hind quarters 
alone they stripped off over three hundred pounds 
of fine meat, which it took them all the next day to 
pack down to Peroux ’s cabin. 

And thus ended Rex’s first elk hunt. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


ANOTHER HUNT AND A BEAR TERRIFIC BATTLE WITH 

AN ELK 

For days after Rex reached home he shuddered 
whenever he thought of that climb above the clouds, 
but later a longing for the mountains came upon 
him. and within two weeks he found himself anxious 
for another trip, such is the fascination of this 
dangerous sport. While in peril we may tremble 
and inwardly vow never to run such risk again. For 
a week after, perhaps, we may remain of the same 
mind, but sooner or later the longing comes back, 
and yielding to it, we go gladly, perhaps to our 
death. This longing at the end of two weeks fully 
possessed Rex. He resisted it for a time, and kept 
doggedly at his work, but one day a letter from 
Peroux came across by the Delta to Seabeck, and 
its contents swept away every resolution. The boy 
yielded, and three days later was once more on Bare 
Ledge plateau, encamped with his former compan- 
ions. 

They had left Peroux’s an hour earlier than 
before, and knowing the trail better had made better 
time, so that they reached camp an hour before 
dark. The early spring had now come, and the snow 
lying on the bottom below the canon had almost dis- 
appeared. In the patches remaining they had found 

244 


ANOTHER HUNT AND A BEAR 


245 


elk, bear and cat tracks, and were confident that bear 
had come out from their winter quarters. Here and 
there they found fresh scratches on the “barberry” 
tree, a sure sign that bear were on the range. For 
the benefit of those who do not understand the 
habits of bear in these regions, the following expla- 
nation is given : 

There are three distinct classes of bear in the 
Olympics; and all seek the “barberry” the first day 
after leaving winter quarters. The scientific name 
of barberry is Case aria Sagrada, and the bark is on 
sale at all drug stores as a powerful cathartic. The 
small black or coast bear goes into winter quarters 
• very late, and when he does — about January 1st — he 
betakes himself back into the mountains, somewhat 
nearer the coast than the mountain black or bald-face 
and the cinnamon bear, that have gone in at least a 
month earlier. Three classes of Olympic bear have 
just been mentioned. This refers to size. There 
are at least five varieties — the black, the cinnamon 
or brown, the silver-tip, the bald-face, and the 
grizzly. The three classes as to size are the small 
coast black, weighing from two hundred to four 
hundred, the mountain black, brown and cinnamon, 
ranging from four hundred to eight hundred, and 
the bald-face and grizzly, from eight hundred to four- 
teen hundred, and even sixteen hundred. No living 
bear is dangerous to man if let alone. The idea that 
bear make unprovoked attacks on man is entirely 
erroneous. No matter how large the bear, if the 
man who comes upon one will stand and steadily 
look at him or her, that bear will edge off, unless the 






ANOTHER HUNT AND A BEAR 


247 


man has frightened it to anger by suddenly corner- 
ing it while it is eating, or has interfered with its 
young. If a coast black bear is hurt by a shot, it 
will run like a pig, unless cornered where it cannot 
run away any farther. If a mountain black, cinna- 
mon, or silver-tip, be hurt, the chances are that it 
will run, but it may not. A grizzly will rarely run 
if hurt, and almost invariably charges. A wounded 
bald-face is not only sure to charge, but will follow 
a hunter for a day or two, if he manages to escape it 
at first, and will attack him in camp or anywhere it 
can find him. It is the hardest bear to kill, the most 
revengeful, and consequently the most dangerous. 
Its sloping frontal bone will deflect almost any rifle 
ball at no matter what range. It will roll to a man 
and tear him in pieces even after he has broken one 
or two of its legs by well-directed rifle shots. The 
only shots that are safe are one at the butt of the ear, 
sidewise, or one striking the backbone, across the 
loins from the rear. With other portions of its 
anatomy riddled by large-sized rifle balls, it will 
fight for an indefinite length of time, and one blow 
from its awful paw, or one snap of its terrible jaws, 
is sure death. The popular idea that big bears are 
clumsy is erroneous; a bear will run as fast through 
the open as a deer, and faster through the thicket or 
over tree trunks. It can turn a flipflap with all the 
celerity of a small kitten. A cougar never rushes, 
but comes with great flying leaps at his prey or foe, 
gathering for an instant after each twenty or thirty 
foot leap, and giving time for a shot, but a bear 
comes like a catapult. A hunter, seeing a grizzly 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


2-48 

or bald-face two hundred yards distant, and relying 
on his skill as a marksman, may shoot, but he had 
better first climb a tree or some tall isolated rock, 
for with the grizzly there are chances and with the 
bald-face a certainty, that the game will come with 
greater or less speed, straight at him. A steady 
marksman with a Winchester may get in five or six 
shots, and he may not get in more than three. All 
this information and much more had Uncle Festus 
imparted to Rex, and his final injunction on this 
trip had been, “Don’t shoot, boyee, onless ye hev a 
fair crack at the butt o’ the ear. ’’ 

Late that afternoon, when they reached the old 
camp, they drew cuts to see who should start the 
fire and prepare the supper, while, as Peroux 
expressed it, “the others skirmished about a bit.’’ 
It fell to Perry and Rex to go out, and each taking 
a “run’’ about five hundred yards from the other, 
commenced crawling up to the first bench. There 
was a little break or sub-bench about one-third the 
way up the run. Rex was mounting and as his eyes 
came even with this, he saw four large split hoofs 
sticking out at him. On crawling further, he found 
himself beside the mangled remains of a full-grown 
elk — a bull that would have dressed at least eight 
hundred, and weighed on foot eleven hundred or 
twelve hundred pounds. It had not been killed 
more than a week, but was pretty nearly devoured. 
Its skull had been crushed in by a fall from above. 
Rex looked up, and to the right about one hundred 
and fifty feet above his head beheld an overhanging 
rock that looked like the edge of a bench. He called 


ANOTHER HUNT AND A BEAR 


249 


to Perry, and the latter toiled across and examined 
the carcass carefully. 

“Killed by cats. B’ar now usin’ on it,’’ he com- 
mented. 

“How do you know it was killed by cats, Perry?” 

“See that hide all tore inter shoestrings? Cats did 
that when they killed him. They sucked his blood 
an’ eat his flesh fer a few days, an’ right thar under 
that little spruce is whar they curled up after 
gorgin’ theirself. See the bed? Now, how’d I 
know b’ar was usin’ here? Jest look up this run. 
See that mark there on the edge o’ that soft shale? 
Wall, thar’s whar a b’ar jest slid down over. Too 
lazy an’ slovenly to pick up his feet, but jest slid. 
A cat’d come down there as dainty as ye please, but 
a b’ar jest slid. He’s got some place up above here 
on a bench whar he leaves his sign, an’ by that — it’s 
all in one place — we kin tell ’bout how many times 
he’s been here. Come on!” 

They climbed up together, and found the “sign,” 
as Perry had said, on the first bench above ; also the 
place atop that jutting rock where the cougar and 
elk had fought. They — for there had been two cats 
and big ones too — had evidently jumped on him from 
out of the spreading boughs of a large scrub pine at 
the back of this bench, when he stood at the edge of 
the cliff. Then had occurred a fierce fight. At 
this season the bull elk has shed his horns and 
cannot fight as well as usual, but this fellow had 
used his remaining weapons — his pointed hoofs — and 
the thin soil was torn by tracks, and strewn with 
blood, tufts of hair and patches of hide. He had 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


* 5 ° 

evidently finally taken a flying leap out into space, 
and from his back his foes had sprung ten feet 
further, out to a bunch of fir trees, the tall tops of 
which were not thirty feet below the level of the 
rock. The tops of these trees appeared broken and 
scratched in two places. 

“Wall! I don’t see any track o’ this b’ar up over 
the perpindickerler side o’ this ledge. S’pose we 
make fer the next bench? You go to the right an’ I 
to the left. The first run ye come to, go up. I’ll 
do the same. Then come along out that bench an’ 
meet me, drivin’ the b’ar.” 

Rex laughed. “All right, Perry. I’ll drive him 
right into your arms.” 

“Ye may laugh,” said Perry, seriously, “but I 
tell ye, he’ll be cornin’ down soon. B’ar live on 
most everything they kin find, but never kill any- 
thin’ more’n fish. What they pertickler like is nice 
fresh grass an’ nice ole carrion. Didn’t know b’ar 
lived on grass like a cow, did ye? Wall, they do, 
an’ they eat young shrubs an’ ants in rotten logs an’ 
wild honey, an’ I dunno what all, but they’ll leave 
it all fer carrion. Now watch out fer b’ar, ’cause 
he’s usin’ here, an’ bein’ reg’lar in his habits, he’ll 
come down.” 

Rex moved along that bench a half-mile before he 
found a run that he thought might give him footing 
to reach the next bench, fully three hundred and 
fifty feet above. He was quite confident this was 
the run down which the bear came, but the last 
storm had swept it clean of brush or loose debris, in 
which a track would be quite likely to show itself. 


ANOTHER HUNT AND A BEAR 


251 


The run, though smooth, was comparatively easy of 
ascent, and he had nearly reached its summit when 
he saw a moving shadow above him to the right. 
The bench was indented by this run, to a depth of 
fifty feet, and this moving shadow was progressing 
in toward the head of the run. Rex had made little 
noise, and he now lay silent on his stomach, turning 
his head only enough to watch that shadow. The 
shadow had at first been a mere shapeless bulk, but 
now, as it neared the head of the run and came 
nearer the brink, it resolved itself into the shape of 
a huge bear. That he would show himself over this 
brink far enough to afford a shot Rex was ardently 
hoping, but in this hope he was doomed to disappoint- 
ment, for at this instant the shadow stopped, raised 
its head in air and motioned up and down as if 
sniffing. By this Rex knew he was scented, and 
rolled a little on his side to get a shot should the 
bear peer over. But bruin was too wary. He 
rose a trifle on his hind feet, and whirled quickly 
about as if on a pivot; the shadow disappeared, and 
Rex scrambled up. There was the bench, clear for 
two hundred yards, and along its level surface he 
ran at the top of his speed. To the left was a sheer 
fall of three hundred to four hundred feet. To the 
right was a wall of rocks smooth as the plastered 
wall of a house. As he ran, he rounded the first 
projection, and stopped so quickly that he came 
near falling down, for there, not fifty yards distant, 
stood the bear, an enormous silver tip, broadside, 
while out beyond him, about one hundred yards, 
was Perry in the act of taking aim. 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


252 

Rex’s sudden appearance caused Perry to lower 
his gun, and in a low* even voice he called out, 
“We’ve got the critter all right if we manage him. 
Don’t make any quick motion, but back up to that 
rock behind ye, git a dead rest an’ when I count 
three fire at his ear. If he stan’s up under both 
shots an’ charges ye, keep behind the rock an’ let 
him run past ve, as I think he will, an’ then let him 
have it again.” 

“But suppose he stops to interview me?” 

“If ye think there’s any danger o’ that, let him 
have ’fore he gits to ye.” 

“Suppose he charges you, Perry?” 

“Never you worry ’bout Perry. I’ll take keer o’ 
him.” 

“Now! One! two! three!” 

At the word both rifles cracked, and the bear fell, 
but scrambled to his feet and charged Perry. That 
individual was now a picture. His Springfield was 
only a single shot, but he coolly threw his shell, 
slipped in another and whipping out his big knife 
put it between his teeth. He was taking careful 
aim at the mad beast before Rex could collect his 
wits. It was pretty late to act, but Rex made a 
good, quick shot, and had the satisfaction of seeing 
the bear, not thirty yards from Perry, fall in a heap, 
his back broken. He came up again, however, on 
his fore feet, and was dragging himself toward the 
enemy, when Uncle Sam spoke, and the bear rolled 
over toward the rocky wall, trembling and kicking 
his huge feet. Perry had taken him fairly between 
the eyes, low down, and had reached the region of 


ANOTHER HUNT AND A BEAR 


2 53 


his heart. Rex was so faint and weak he conld 
hardly stand, but Perry, cool as ever and with- 
out a tremor in his voice, shouted: “That’s our 
hide.” 

“That’s your hide, you mean,” called out Rex, as 
he made his way around the circling bench. “I tell 
you, old man, you’re a brick. What’d you calculate 
to do with that knife?’’ 

“My plan,’’ said Perry, as he deliberately leaned 
on his rifle, “was to stop him if I could with that 
shot, an’ if I couldn’t, then to jab him with the 
gun, an’ when he got his jaws on that to give him 
the knife. Your shot flustered me a leetle, but I 
got pretty near dead center.’’ 

“I should say you did! Well! you’ve got nerve in 
every inch of your body.” 

“A man’s got to have nerve, huntin’ these critters, 
er he gits the daylights chawed outen him. Come 
on; let’s skin him. I’ll bet Peroux’s cussin’ to think 
he didn’t hev that chance.” 

“He could have had it for all of me,” replied Rex, 
as they set to work stripping off the hide. The bear 
was in very good flesh, in fact, fat, and his hide was 
a beauty, measuring eight feet eleven inches from 
tip of nose to center of hind crotch. A green bear 
hide of that size is a heavy burden. This one must 
have weighed at least ninety pounds, and though 
Rex carried the skull, Perry was until nearly dark 
getting down to camp with it. Rex also brought 
down the feet, and these he found a great delicacy, 
when broiled by Perry on a sharp stick over bark 
coals. The three were very merry that night, and 


254 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


it was nearly ten o’clock before they rolled up in 
their blankets to sleep. 

Rex was just dropping off into his first doze, lulled 
by the alternate roar of the fall when the wind 
circled from the east, and the moans and wails from 
the deep canon when it came from the west. These 
sounds had grown fainter and fainter, and he had 
almost lost consciousness when a yell just above his 
head brought him and his companions to a sitting 
posture. It had begun like the sudden shriek of a 
steam whistle, but it now died away in a long drawn 
yawl, to rise again in increased volume. The boy’s 
hair stood on end. “Say? What’s that?’’ he 
gasped. 

“Cats!’’ responded Perry, sententiously. “They’re 
smcllin’ that b’ar meat. It’s too strong fer our 
stummicks, but they kin stan’ it. They may not eat 
it to-night, ’cause they’ll smell where we ben round 
it. Wish’t I’d thought to dope it with strikenine. ’ ’ 

Rex lay back again, but started up as another 
yowl rent the air. He had heard big tom cats by 
night, but their snarls, in comparison with these, 
were like the sound of a boy’s whistle compared with 
the blast of the most powerful steam whistle. “Will 
they attack us?” he asked. 

“Naw! They won’t attack us. Lay down an' go 
to sleep.’’ Perry spoke very nonchalantly, but Rex 
noticed that he kept a better fire than usual, and 
tired as he was, did not sleep much. 

The next morning at an early hour the three 
started off along the side of the northern range 
toward the west and up the river beyond the canon. 


ANOTHER HUNT AND A BEAR 


2 55 


Their plan was to go up about four miles, looking 
for bear tracks across a big bottom they had seen 
from the mountain, returning to camp at nightfall. 
They reached this bottom about nine o’clock. Perry 
was ahead, and they were walking through a com- 
paratively open piece of woods, when he stopped and 
remarked: “I hed all the fun last night. You fel- 
lers sneak on ’em if ye wan ’to, an’ I’ll stay here to 
take ’em if they come this way.” 

“To take what?” exclaimed both Peroux and Rex. 

“Them elk up there ahead. They’re in a little 
glade jest round this bend in the river. I see ’em a 
ways back. Keep well round on the side hill above 
’em, an’ I’ll sneak through by this old trail up to 
the nose o’ the bend. I won’t shoot till you do. ” 

Peroux and Rex needed no further invitation, but 
hurriedly worked their way around, while Perry 
crept along the river. The glade was a half circle, 
bounded by the river to the south, and here in peace 
and contentment both Peroux and Rex soon saw a 
herd of eleven elk. The leader, an old bull, was 
remarkably large, and what was most singular, still 
retained his antlers, notwithstanding the lateness of 
the season. “He’s at least a month late,” whis- 
pered Peroux. “Must be they’ve just come down 
from the interior, where it’s cold later, and where 
they carry their horns six or eight weeks longer.” 

“You take him,” returned Rex, “and I’ll have a 
try at that little bull. I got one the other day, and 
it’s your turn now.” Peroux smiled his thanks as 
they drew nearer, and at a distance of about one 
hundred and seventy-five yards knelt down, shoot- 


256 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


ing, as was his custom, without a rest. Rex, on the 
other hand, rested beside a tree trunk, and drew 
down for a point back of his bull’s shoulder. Then 
he softly counted, and as the rifles cracked saw the 
big fellow go down in a heap, while the remainder 
of the herd, first huddled and then led by the young 
bull, bounded toward cover on the farther side. 
The young leader was never destined to reach cover, 
however, for at this instant Perry’s rifle boomed 
and he fell with a big ball through his spine. 

As the three hunters ran across the glade, Rex 
called out: “Much obliged, Perry. Don’t know how 
I ever came to miss.’’ 

“You didn’t miss; he’s bored- plum through, right 
near the heart, but he might ’a run a mile ’fore he 
dropped. ’’ 

This they found to be true, and as Perry’s shot 
had stopped him only, and as he would have died 
anyhow, Perry declared the game belonged to Rex, 
and that this shot was only in payment of the one 
lent at the bear-killing. As they stood talking, 
Peroux happened to look round and saw his big bull 
moving. Drawing his knife, he leaped forward, 
intending to cut the creature’s throat. As he drew 
near, the bull, which had been shot through the 
neck and stunned, staggered to its feet, its eyes 
green with rage, and its enormous mane erect. This 
unexpected revival so astonished Peroux that he 
hesitated, and that hesitation came near costing 
him his life, for with a shrill whistle the bull 
charged him, and to the horror of Perry and Rex, 
bore him to the earth. The bull’s “dog killers,’’ or 


ANOTHER HUNT AND A BEAR 


257 

forward prongs, were apparently driven through 
and through the stalwart Alsatian, but in reality one 
was under each arm, while the others were against a 
vine maple, over which Peroux had fallen backward. 
In his mad fury the elk hooked and jammed his 
victim, but as Peroux had caught his antlers close 
and hung on for dear life, little harm was being 
done aside from bruises. Cocking his rifle, Perry 
danced around to get a shot, but man and beast 
were so mixed up he dared not risk it. 

At this instant a remarkable incident occurred. 
The bull, in his struggles to back up, braced and 
gave a mighty surge, leaving his antlers with 
Peroux. The big hunter sprang nimbly to his feet, 
knife in hand, for he had not dropped it through all 
the hard struggle. The horns were partially 
entangled in the maple, and he caught his clothing 
on them and fell again, just as the bull shot forward 
his sharp fore hoofs with a force that must have 
impaled the hunter had they struck him. One went 
either side of Peroux’s body, cutting the shirt as a 
knife might have done, and now, with his left arm 
wound round the brute’s neck,. Peroux was down on 
his back again, but plying his knife. Rex and 
Perry tried to shoot, but the combatants rolled over 
one another so fast it was impossible. The ribs of 
a less strong man must have been crushed, but 
Peroux seemed iron-sided, and plied his knife 
desperately. The fourth thrust touched the heart, 
and rolling to one side, the savage elk gave up the 
battle. 

At first, Peroux could not arise, and so pale and 


258 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

bloody was he when, with assistance, he did struggle 
to his feet, that his companions were greatly 
alarmed. However, the blood was mainly elk blood, 
and the injuries were confined to bruises and abra- 
sions. Indeed, after a rest, Peroux helped carry his 
portion of the meat back to camp, and though lame 
the next day and for several days thereafter, by one 
of those miracles that sometimes favor hunters, 
he escaped serious injury. 

The next three days were consumed in getting 
their game and trophies back to Peroux’ s cabin, and 
once more satisfied, Rex went back across the canal, 
to meet a man whom he had never before seen, yet 
who was inadvertently to give him important infor- 
mation concerning the “great Spanish treasure. ” 


CHAPTER XXIX 


ELIAS PARMLE, PROSPECTOR ASTONISHING STORY OF 

THE ELK HORNS 

Elias Parmle is one of the oddest characters in all 
the Puget Sound region. By reason of his oddity 
and droll expressions, he has for years been better 
known by the name of “Bill Nye.” He claims to 
be of Swiss descent, which probably accounts for his 
love of the mountains and mountain climbing. Born 
in Kansas, his parents sent him east to school. One 
day he was missed, and his friends did not hear of 
him in ten long years. When they did, he came 
from Washington state, where he had been prospect- 
ing, and sold out his claim, clearing a small fortune. 
With this he saw the east, and journeyed west again 
to do more prospecting. At various times he made 
small strikes, but always lost the value of the good 
ones by expending all the money he made in 
attempts to develop bad ones. Less than forty-five 
years of age, he has for twenty-five years been a 
very pioneer of prospectors, and, like most of the 
mining advance guard, he has never been rich long. 
He has lived more than half the time since 1870 in 
the wildest, most desolate portions of the Cascades 
and Olympics. A plain narration of his adventures 
would read like the most lurid fiction, for he has 

dodged and fought Indians, seen and slain wild 

259 


26 o REX WAYLAND’S fortune 

beasts, tumbled over precipices, has been swept 
through the rocky canons of mountain rivers, has 
been snowbound until obliged to cook and eat his 
moccasins, has been imprisoned two days without 
food on a lone cloud-covered peak, afraid to move 
lest he should fall into some terrible crevasse, and is 
still alive, and, as he puts it, “tougher’n tripe.” 

When out of the mountains, he travels about the 
sound and its “slews” in a huge whaleboat. Like 
the majority of Puget Sound boatmen, he always 
stands up to row. His oars are nearer sweeps, being 
twelve feet in length , broad and heavy. He is a 
giant, and all about him is in proportion. His 
whaleboat is twenty-four feet long, and of six-foot 
beam. Its lines are so well laid, however, that 
even an ordinary man or boy can propel it, and when 
.Elias throws his two hundred and sixty pounds 
against the oars, she moves through the water at a 
speed of six to eight miles an hour. 

One morning Rex saw this craft moving up the 
canal, and noted its size, though two miles out. 
Near the boat, apparently about one hundred yards 
distant, was a large flock of brant. As hunters well 
know, all waterfowl of the game order are birds of 
excellent judgment as to distance. They will sit 
complacently and let a hunter approach to within 
one hundred yards, knowing that few fowling pieces 
will carry more than sixty, and fewer yet will do 
execution on feather-armored fowl at that distance. 
But let hunter or boat approach nearer, and they are 
away. The big whaleboat was just about one hun- 
dred yards from this flock, when the oarsman picked 



ELIAS PARMLE AND REX MEET. 


262 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


up a gun. At this the brant, which had for some 
time been craning their necks and circling round 
uneasily, took wing, and well together started up 
the canal. They had hardly bunched for flight when, 
boom! boom! went the gun, and at least a dozen 
fell, some flapping about on the water and diving, 
but unable to rise. 

“Great heavens! What a shot!” exclaimed Rex, 
running out. “What kind of a gun does that man 
use?” 

“That’s his ole No. 8,” answered Uncle Festus, 
who had come in from the woods. “He’s got a 
reg’lar j^oung cannon there. Heaviest gun ’long- 
shore. Ye know most on us use a twelve-gauge, 
with shells loaded with three and a quarter drams o’, 
powder an’ one an’ an eighth ounces o’ number two 
to four shot fer duck. Wall, that rooster has an 
eight-gauge, with a bar’l thirty-eight inches long. 
The gun weighs fifteen pound, an’ will kill at one 
hundred to one hundred and forty yard. He loads 
its shells with six to seven drams o’ good powder, 
an’ fer duck er brant from forty to fifty No. 1, or 
’bout two ounce o’ No. 2. That’s the way he gits 
’em. That gun cost a purty sum, an’ is one o’ his 
whims. Purty profitable whim too, I reckon, though 
’twouldn’t be o’ much use to you or me, ’cause we 
couldn’t hold it. Say, Rex! I wish’t you’d call him 
in. I’d like to hire the critter fer a few days. The 
fallers are gettin’ behind. Tell him we’ll pay him 
$2 and grub. ” 

Rex signalled for the giant to come ashore, and 
after picking up his brant, Elias leisurely swept his 


ELIAS PARMLE, PROSPECTOR 


263 

craft to the dock. He was reluctant about hiring- 
out, as he had planned to go back into the Olympics 
by Big River the following Monday, but when he 
learned it would be an accommodation to Uncle 
Festus, he quickly promised, and went down to the 
boat to cover up his kit and take out his brant. 
While talking, Rex had improved the opportunity to 
look him over, and was greatly interested in his 
appearance. Standing six feet eight inches in his 
No. 10 logging boots, and weighing two hundred 
and sixty-one pounds, although not at all fleshy, but 
rather rawboned and brawny, Elias’ appearance was 
deceptive. His feet and hands seemed small in pro- 
portion to his size, and one could hardly believe that 
his head, even with its mass of brown hair (not 
shingled, but “cut square’’), called for a No. 9 hat. 
He claimed to cut his own hair twice a year, and 
even this people were inclined to admit, when they 
saw him shave himself with a big hunting-knife, 
using ordinary “hard’’ soap for lather. His features 
were large, and while rugged, were in a way hand- 
some. In fact, had he been an actor, so mobile were 
these features and so expressive were his great gray 
eyes, he must have made a reputation. His voice 
was of great range and pleasing in tone. He was 
very mild in manner, almost boyish, except when 
aroused, which was seldom, and then he looked truly 
majestic. Elias is a great reader — not of news- 
papers, but history and the poets. No matter where 
he may be to-day, in his pack will be found a small, 
well-worn copy of the Bible, Shakespeare, and prob- 
ably a volume or two of Grote’s Greece, Gibbon’s 


264 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Rollin’s 
Ancient History, or Macaulay or Hume. 

“Some fellers pack round a gallon or two of 
tanglefoot, or a few pound o’ cigarettes, but ez fer 
me, gimme a batch o’ good, solid readin’ an’ a 
mod’rate ’lowance o’ chawin’ terbacker. As Shakes- 
peare makes old Prospero, in his cell, say, ‘I’m all 
dedicated to closeness’ (meanin’ retirement) ‘an’ the 
betterin’ o’ my mind. ’ ” 

It did not take Elias long to pick his brant and 
pack the feathers away that morning, for he was 
very skillful, and having carefully stowed his truck 
in a locker he came up to camp with a half-dozen of 
the finest and fattest birds. “They’re not as good 
eatin’ as they was a month ago, Mis’ Wayland, but, 
as Mr. Shakespeare would say if workin’ in these 
woods, ‘Now good digestion waits on appetite,’ an’ I 
persoom the boys’ll relish ’em.’’ 

Mrs. Wayland, who had heard so much of him that 
she felt acquainted, thanked him, and he strolled out 
to the door of the office, where he sat down, took a 
small copy of Dante from his pocket, and began 
reading. He had rowed up from Whiskey Spit, 
down opposite Port Gamble, that morning, where 
he had shot and picked some two dozen duck, brant 
and geese, and, as it was within an hour of the early 
dinner, did not care to commence work until noon. 

“Been hunting waterfowl lately?’’ said Rex. 

“Yes; sort o’ huntin’ of ’em. That snow we 
had in Feberary fell purty deep upon the ridges 
over ’crosst yonder, an’ I thought I might as well 
put in a leetle time huntin’ ’longshore. Think I’ll 


ELIAS PARMLE, PROSPECTOR 265 

start in soon, though. I wanter git in airly this 
year. The storms hev ben purty heavy, an’ I kal- 
kerlate some float wuth lookin’ at ’ll be loosened 
up.” 

‘‘How far back do you go?” 

‘‘Oh! Most anywhar I wanter. Ben clar ’crosst 
once or twice. ” 

‘‘Why! I thought nobody ever went across up 
here.” 

‘‘Scurce anybody ever haz, ’cept me, I guess. 
Purty dang’rous. ” 

“Find any game over in there?” 

“Oh, yes. See lots o’ b’ar an 1 elk, an’ any 
quantity o’ deer an’ wolves; but no use huntin’ in 
thar. Couldn’t pack out any b’ar-pelt ner horns in 
a month, ter say nothin’ o’ meat. Only last year I 
see the gol dangest pair o’ horns over in thar ye 
ever hearn of, but I didn’t do any more’n take ’em 
down an’ look at ’em. Then I lost ’em.” 

“How large were they?” inquired Rex, his heart 
thumping and his face growing white and red by 
turns. 

“Why, Mr. Wayland, I wuz ter tell ye God’s 
honest truth, you’d think I wuz lyin’. ‘I cud a tale 
unfold’ that’d gin me the belt fer champion liar all 
’long this canal. No, I guess I’ll say nothin’ till I 
pack ’em out.” 

“Oh, pshaw, Elias! Don’t be afraid. I know 
you’re not a liar. Tell me about ’em. If you don’t 
want me to say anything, I won’t.” 

“All right, Mr. Wayland, I will, but I don’t want 
ye to doubt my word, fer that’d hurt my feelin’s. I 


266 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


was a-crawlin’ ’long the backbone of a divide jest 
over to the southeast o’ Mount Olympus, when I see 
off to the left o’ me a hole in the ground. The 
clouds were a-flyin’ purty thick, an’ I thought first 
’twas shadders, but then I thought ’twan’t, an’ I 
crawled over that way; an’ thar — by gum! thar 
’twas — an ole crater. Darndest sinkhole ye ever 
see. I should think ’twas two hundred yard ’crost 
lengthwise, an’ ’bout one hundred an’ fifty t’other 
way. ’Twas ’bout four hundred feet down to the 
water, for ’twas like all them ole craters — a small 
deep lake, an’ ’twas purty near straight down, too. 
Down ’bout seventy- five er one hundred foot to the 
south side wuz a little bench. I shu’d say ’twas six 
or eight foot wide in its widest, an’ p’raps thirty or 
forty foot long, an’ in this was growin’ four small 
scrub pine. Now, these wuz the only trees I’d seen 
up that high,fer this crater is above the tree line, 
an’ I set down an’ looked at ’em, wonderin’ how in 
sixty-nine them trees ever got started there. As I 
wuz lookin’ one o’ these little meat birds ye see 
everywhere in the mountains kim a-sailin’ over an’ 
lit right down onto what I first took to be a dry 
limb, but which I now see wuz a elk horn. I looked 
an’ looked, an’ rubbed my eyes, fer I couldn’t 
believe thar wuz ever’n elk horn o’ that size growed. 
Why, it looked ten feet long. I wuz bound I’d git 
down an’ see that thing, but how I didn’t know. 
’Bout two mile back, I had ’bout two hundred foot 
o’ inch rope, an’ I made up my mind I’d go git that. 
It wuz dost onto three o’clock when I got back there, 
an’ I hadn’t had any dinner, but I jest made up my 


ELIAS PARMLE, PROSPECTOR 267 

mind I might as well swing over on an empty stum- 
mick as a full one, an’ tyin’ my rope strong round a 
big rock a ways back from the edge, I tied knots in 
it every few feet an’ slid over. ’Twas easy nuff 
goin’ down, but it made me sick ter my stummick 
hangin’ out over there, an’ I wuz glad when my feet 
touched the ledge. My! How quiet ’twas down 
there ! The wind moanin ’ round up above sounded 
fur away, an’ the waters, three hundred foot er 
more below, wuz absolutely without current er 
motion ’cept an occasional bubblin’ up an’ heavin’ 
that sent eddies every which way. I imagined how 
I’d surprise things by losin’ my footin’ an’ makin’ a 
hole in that pond. However, I didn’t care to do 
that, an’ lettin’ go my rope I crawled in under the 
little trees ter examine the elk horns. An’, say, 
Mr. Wayland! I’ve seen some big horns, both on the 
head an’ off, but I never see nothin’ in all my born 
days, even two-thirds as big as them. I shud say 
they’d weigh a hundred pounds, an’ they’re in per- 
fect condition, ’cept so fur as the moss is concerned. 
They’s a leetle moss on ’em, but no mice ner 
marmot ner squirrel cud get at ’em down thar, an’ 
they’re perfect. I stood them there elk horns on 
their tips, an’, Mr. Wayland, sure as I live, the 
crown o’ my head didn’t touch the crotch. I’m 
aware ye can’t hardly believe that, but it’s the truth, 
an’ I kin prove it if I ever git ’em out. Why! If I 
had them over in Seattle I cud git a clean hundred 
dollars fer ’em. 

“An’ now, Mr. Wayland, comes the funny part o’ 
this story — the part what robs me o’ proof. As I 


268 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


said, thar wa’n’t any wind down in that crater, an’ so 
there hadn’t ben, when all of a suddint, a blast 
sucked down that come near sweepin’ me off’n that 
bench. Why! Fer a few seconds that rope stood 
straight out, an’ if it had caught on any o’ the knobs 
o’ rock out along the sides o’ that well I wudn’t be 
tellin’ you this yarn. But it come back within ’bout 
twelve foot o’ the ledge, an’ hung. The wind had 
moved it. There I wuz, like a rat in a trap, sick to 
my stummick. A man don’t like to jump out 
twelve or fifteen foot from a little ledge to ketch a 
inch rope danglin’ over a bottomless pit, an’ you bet 
I didn’t wanter. I looked round fer a stick or limb, 
but there wa’n’t none long enough. The longest I 
cud find wuz easy three foot short. I wuz purty 
near hystericks, when I thought of a scheme. I laid 
the horns down flat on the ledge, points out, an’ on 
the crotch I piled some flat shaly stun I found there 
— a lot on ’em, five hundred pound, I guess — an’ 
then I tried straddlin’ out on them antlers. I got 
out twoer three foot over the edge an’ there I stood, 
reachin with my stick, but ’twan’t no use. Jest 
then the antlers give a leetle twist, an’ I felt myself 
goin’. By Gosh! But I suffered fer a second. I 
hed lost my balance, an’ wuz slowly goin’ in to’rds 
the walls. Finally, I see I had ter go. The horns 
wuz a turnin’ under me, an’ so I quit tryin’ ter bal- 
ance, an’ made a dive fer that rope. I reached ’er, 
even though I did batter my brains near out. 
Twisted by my spring, the horns sounded like an ole 
tunin’ -fork, an’ flew out from under the rock I had 
piled on ’em. They went down past me. It seemed 


ELIAS PARMLE, PROSPECTOR 


269 

as if they wuz in the air a minute ’fore they struck 
an’ sunk out o’ sight. How fur down they be I 
dunno, but I’m goin’ up thar this spring with nine 
hundred foot of good strong line an’ a grapple, an’ 
I’m a-goin’ to git ’em out ef I kin. I’d ’a had a try 
at it when I crawled up the cut that night, only I 
hadn’t line enough with me. Besides, I wuz that 
shook up I didn’t care to even look over in thar agin 
fer some time.” 

As he finished his strange story, Elias sat silent, 
and finally, with a sheepish look on his face, 
remarked: “I s’pose I’m a chump to tell ye a yam 
the first time we talk that brands me a liar, but 
somehow I couldn’t help it. ’ ’ 

“Elias, I have reason to believe you told the * 
truth. Do you want a partner to help you get those 
horns out? I’ve been in the mountains some, and I 
think I could be of service to you. ’ ’ 

“You, Mr. Wayland? You don’t mean ter say 
you’d go in there along o’ me?” 

“That I do, and if you are ready when you have 
finished your two weeks’ work here I will be. I’ll 
furnish half the grub-stake and do my share of the 
work. You may have the horns and I’m to have 
everything else I find in that pit. Are you agreed?” 

“Course I be! But what d’ye expect ter find in 
thar? I don’t believe fishin ’ll be wuth a continental, 
fer thar don’t seem ter be any livin’ thing in the 
durned hole.” 

“Just what we find, I don’t know, but whatever 
it is, it’s mine. Are you agreed?” 

“Yessir; an I’ll further ’gree ter help ye pack it 


270 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

out at fair pay, pervided ye help me what little I 
need. ” 

“All right, Elias. We’ll start out two weeks from 
next Monday.” 


CHAPTER XXX 


CLIMBING TOWARD MOUNT OLYMPUS “CAN YOU SLEEP 

STANDING UP?” SNOW SLIDES AND FLOODS 

Sometime in the eighties, when the boom in 
northwestern Washington was at its height, a certain 
visionary capitalist hired five men to make a trail 
from Quilacene back up into the mountains, along 
what is known as Big River. This trail was never 
intended to be more than a pack trail, but consider- 
ing the character of the country, the work was well 
done. For five long months these men worked 
faithfully, with axe, saw and mattopk, succeeding in 
a really wonderful undertaking, for they reached the 
third branch of the Big River, some forty miles 
inland, and left a trail over which a strong cayuse 
could in three or four days during the summer 
season pack from one hundred and fifty to two 
hundred and fifty pounds. To be sure, it was a very 
rough trail. Many an eastern woodsman, unused 
to mountain climbing, would not have cared to 
carry a light rifle over it, but a cayuse of the north- 
western mountains will go where many men dare 
not, and carry a load at that. Remove his pack and 
he will jump or scramble over a log three or four 
feet in diameter, patiently awaiting his pack on the 
other side. As for a narrow path, cut into the side 
of a precipice, he thinks nothing of it, and is as 
steady of head as' a mountain sheep. Sometimes, to 

271 


2J2 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


be sure, a “fool kyuse” comes to grief — a horse hav- 
ing no more horse-sense than to run his pack against 
an overhanging rock and go rolling off down into a 
canon, breaking his neck and losing his pack, but 
such fools are scarce. The ordinary cayuse is sure- 
footed, an animal of excellent judgment, and can be 
trusted to follow a trail, whether or not his master 
be near. Prospectors usually have two or three of 
these animals in a train, and drive them like sheep 
before them. Where horses cannot be used, the 
prospector is obliged to pack his own outfit, and 
does it, carrying from seventy-five to one hundred 
pounds, but it is hard and dangerous work. 

The old Quilacene trail before mentioned was the 
route chosen by Rex and Elias for the commence- 
ment of their trip. As they knew it to be impass- 
able for horses, by reason of floods, landslides and 
windfalls, they took no horses in, but packed tent, 
blanket and provisions on their backs. This outfit 
they had chosen with great care, for while Elias 
could pack one hundred and fifty pounds, Rex could 
not carry more than seventy-five or eighty, and they 
must arrange for a combined load of not more than 
two hundred and twenty-five pounds. The two 
packs were made up of the following supplies: 

Pounds. 


Small “A” tent and two heavy blankets 24 

Flour, mixed with baking powder 36 

Beans, the large blue 18 

Bacon, for meat and shortening 12 

Coffee, ground and the very best, in tin cans 8 

Sugar, white granulated, in tin cans. 12 

JButter, in tin cans 12 



“ HERE’S WHAR YE GOT TO SLEEP.” 






273 


274 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


Pounds, 


Rice and oatmeal, equal quantities 12 

Raisins, stemmed 3 

Apricots, dried and in tins 5 

Salt, in cloth sacks 8 

Cartridges, matches, tobacco, physic, liquor, lini- 
ment, salve, and cotton rags in strips 10 

Changes of underclothing and shoes 8 

Small axe, prospector’s hammer, field glass, dyna- 
mite, and giant powder 15 

Rope, wire, and strong line . 13 

Small coffee pot, riveted, frying pans, gold pan, 

cups, plates, and knives 5 

Shotgun and rifle 24 


225 

In addition, each had filled his pockets with little 
indispensables, such as pins, needles, thread, bits of 
string, fish hooks, a good strong pocket-knife, red 
handkerchiefs, in short, everything but money. 
Rex, however, had put into an inner pocket seven 
five-dollar bills, thinking they might be driven to the 
other coast and need money to get home. Unknown 
to Rex, Elias had put into his pack one small paper- 
covered volume of Carlyle’s French Revolution, a 
small Bible, and a Shakespeare of the smallest size. 

Mrs. Wayland had strongly objected to Rex mak- 
ing this trip. Indeed, she had shed not a few tears 
when he proposed it, and had she known of the 
crater Elias told of, over which it might be necessary 
to swing on a small rope, it is highly probable she 
would never have yielded and given her reluctant 
consent. Rex was so little inclined to talk of his ex- 
ploits in mountain climbing that she had never heard 
of his adventures even after elk, and while she had 


CLIMBING TOWARD MOUNT OLYMPUS 275 

a vague idea that he had at times scaled lofty peaks 
and crept along the brink of tremendous precipices, 
she knew nothing of the particulars. Rex was not 
the lad to deceive his mother, however, and had she 
asked him about these matters he would in all prob- 
ability have told her the whole truth. Knowing all 
they did of the treasure he expected to find, both 
she and Uncle Festus strongly objected to his going, 
but he was insistent, and finally won their con- 
sent. 

Uncle Festus, with a crew of his men, rowed the 
two prospectors twelve miles across to Jackson’s 
cove, from which place they took the short cut 
through “Burnt Valley.’’ He also sent the men to 
carry their packs as far as Big River, which they 
reached some time before nightfall and where they 
encamped, the men turning back there and rowing 
home by moonlight. 

During the first two days’ march they found little 
or no snow, and although there was no trail worth 
mentioning, the old trail having become almost 
obliterated, they made fair progress, covering not 
less than twelve miles the first and ten the second 
day. The third, however, they began to strike 
snow, and before noon were obliged to travel along 
the sides of the mountains a considerable distance 
from the river to avoid deep drifts. It was about 
three o’clock on the afternoon of the third day that 
Elias paused in a climb along the steep mountain 
side and remarked: “I’ve a notion to go straight 
down here an’ camp fer the night. Ahead is a 
canon ’bout four miles long, an’ I’m ’fraid we can’t 


2j6 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


git past it ’fore dark. If we can’t, we may have ter 
sleep stan’in’ up, fer there ain’t a level place to 
camp any whar. ’ * 

“Oh, pshaw! Elias. The days are long now, and 
we can easily make four miles in the next four 
hours. I say go on. Is there a good camping place 
beyond?” 

“Yes; a good place, an’ that’s why I’d like ter 
reach it, but I’m ’fraid.” 

“Oh! goon. I’ll follow you.” 

Muttering to himself, Elias went on, but after an 
hour Rex could look back and see they had not made 
a mile, while it seemed he was never so tired in his 
life. He said nothing, but toiled along after his 
guide, who seemed straining every nerve of his big 
body to make speed. Suddenly, a black mass of 
clouds swept down upon them, and a blinding snow- 
storm rendered travel almost impossible. Once 
Elias stopped, turned square up the mountain side, 
and when Rex reached the place of turning, he saw 
that a huge lateral canon yawned beside them. 
Into this Elias might easily have fallen had he not 
been carefully feeling his way, for the snow was 
coming down in such quantities as to obstruct the 
view except for a few feet around. At the head of 
this canon stood Elias, leaning against a huge tree- 
trunk and panting like a tired dog. “Here’s whar 
ye got to sleep, ’ ’ said he, between gasps. 

“What! Here? Why, there isn’t a level spot to 
lie down on, to say nothing about a fire. We surely 
can’t stay here, Elias.” 

“Well, we got to, so that’s all they is of it. Sling 


CLIMBING TOWARD MOUNT OLYMPUS 277 

yer pack against the foot o’ that tree so ’twon’t roll 
down. ” 

Rex did as he was told, and Elias then began to 
kick the snow down against the packs. From' a 
small cedar tree near at hand, he began to lop small 
branches or plumes, and these he cast down, Rex 
following his example, until they had a considerable 
quantity, all more or less mixed with the wet 
snow. 

“Hurry now, an’ git out the blankets ’fore ye git 
chilled. That’s right. Now roll up Injun fashion, 
head an’ all covered.’’ Wet and weary as he was, 
Rex did so, and guided by Elias lay down, his feet 
against the packs. Elias next rolled up, and with 
a dexterous movement of one arm, threw the tent, 
folded four double completely over them. Shut out 
from the storm, despite their wet clothing, they soon 
grew warm. 

“Sorry I can’t give ye any supper, my boy, but 
as Shakespeare says, ‘our cake’s dough on both 
sides’ fer to-night.’’ 

“He says something about, ‘he that stands on 
slippery places, ’ don’t he?’’ 

“Fer sure. He makes Pandulph say in King 
John, ‘He that stands on slippery places makes nice 
of no vile hold to stay him up.’ ’’ 

“Does he say anything about going to sleep with 
a hungry stomach?’’ 

“The only thing I think on jest now is what Friar 
Laurence said to Romeo — ‘Adversity’s sweet milk — 
philosophy — to comfort thee. ’ I guess that’s what 
you’ll have ter sup on to-night.’’ 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


278 

“Oh, well! We might be in a worse fix. I’m get- 
ting warm.” 

“Yes, an’ you’11 sleep. You’re better off’n some 
kings to-night. You remember what King Henry 
said one wakeful night — ‘Not all those laid in bed 
majestical can sleep so soundly as the wretched 
slave. ’ ’ ’ 

“Yes; but you haven’t quoted all of that. He 
goes on to say, ‘Who with a body filled and with 
vacant mind gets him to rest, crammed with dis- 
tressful bread.’ Now, I wish I was crammed even 
with' some of that distressed bread you make. A 
cold dough -gad would go fine about now.” 

“Wall, if ye’re goin’ ter feel so ’bout it, I kin give 
ye a mighty good substitute. Whar’s them raisins? 
Clear down in the pack, I bet. ’ ’ 

“No, they ain’t, Elias. They’re right on top, 
where I put ’em.” 

“Wall, ef that’s the case, s’pose I’ll have ter stop 
yer hunger. I’ve alius heerd that a child couldn’t 
sleep on an empty stummick. Lay still now, an’ I’ll 
git a handful an’ poke ’em down where yon kin reach 
’em. Thar! chaw them well, an’ it’ll stop hunger 
better’n anything I know, ’cept reg’lar vittles.” 
Rex did this, and to his surprise felt as if he had 
partaken of a light supper. He fell asleep before 
Elias had completed the adjustment of their cover- 
ing, and despite their slanting bed, slept like a top 
for eight hours. When he awoke the dawn was just 
creeping into the valley, and in all directions snow 
was sliding down toward the river, which roared 
loudly from the rocky channel so far below. 


CLIMBING TOWARD MOUNT OLYMPUS 279 

“Hear the snow slide in the night?” inquired 
Elias. 

“Never heard a thing.” 

“I shud ’a thought ye’d ’a heerd yerself snore. 
Blamed ef I don’t think that snore o’ yourn wuz 
what started the slide. Look a’ there. Now don’t 
ye wish ye’d ’a kep’ on?” 

Rex looked and grew pale, for out beyond the 
heavy timber in which they had been sleeping he 
could see a clear space, fully a half-mile wide. As 
there was no snow upon it, it was plain that it had 
gone down during the night. Starting well up 
toward the brow of the mountain, the entire face of 
the upper slope had moved down some two miles, to 
pile up in a huge mass at the entrance to the canon. 
Above this dam, a lake of unknown depths had 
formed, and the water was setting back for miles 
up the valley, submerging the tallest tree-tops. It 
had now reached a level, where it could force its 
way across this jam, and it was this fall which had 
increased the roar. » 

“When that thing went, the hull dern airth shook. 
I cudn’t even hear you snore, an’ I thought at first 
it had waked ) r e up, but when the racket stopped I 
heerd yer reg’lar stroke agin. I tell ye, boy, it’s 
lucky we didn’t camp up in that valley. We might 
’a got ketched by the water. See the bottom o’ that 
slide? Wall, it’s soapstun clay. Got wet up an’ 
started, takin’ a crust of airth from forty to two 
hundred foot deep, an’ bigger’n all North Seattle. 
See how them ten-foot trees is twisted an’ broke, 
like so many straws. I s’pose ’twas somethin’ like 


2 8 o REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

this Moses see when ‘the Lord before him passed.* 
Wall, hustle inter yer pack straps now. We got ter 
git outen this ’fore the snow starts ter meltin’ an’ 
more slides go kitin’ down. A high flat is what I’m 
lookin fer now. I’d like a few beans an’ a cup o’ 
coffee. Them raisins ’ll sustain life, but I like ’em 
best in spotted pup. Ever eat spotted pup?” 

“No; what is it?” 

“Rice, with raisins in. It’s great, I tell ye, with 
butter an’ .sugar on. Come ’long now.” Their 
march for the next two hours was exceedingly diffi- 
cult and dangerous, but they reached level ground 
above the canon, and scraping off the snow, made a 
good camp and prepared a good breakfast, which they 
finished at n a. m. As they started on, the sun’s heat 
was perceptible, and snowslides small and great were 
starting everywhere. Their course for the remainder 
of the day was through a wider but winding valley, 
and at times they might have been caught by snow- 
slides had it not been for the width of the valley. 
They crossed the river on logs fourteen times before 
dark, and after climbing a steep ascent down which 
the river tumbled in cascades, came out into a broad 
mountain bottom, eight or nine miles long, as Elias 
said, and nearly two miles wid§. Here among the 
huge tree trunks they pitched their tent, made a 
thick bed of fir and spruce limbs, and prepared to 
enjoy one long night’s rest. Comforted by a good 
supper and dry clothes, Rex soon fell asleep, but 
Elias lay awake in trouble. “Don’t like the look o’ 
things, ’ ’ he muttered to himself, as, supporting his 
head on one hand, he lay staring into the fir-bark 


Climbing toward mount Olympus 281 

fire. “Never see such signs o’ snow at this season. 
Things is at least a month behind time. No doubt 
all this snow is rain down on the sound, but it’s 
snow up here, an’ there’ll be more ’fore mornin’ by 
the looks o’ things. Wall, if it comes, let it. We’re 
here first,’’ and lying down, he was soon asleep. 

Neither awoke until broad daylight, and when 
they did each stared dubiously at the other. There 
was five feet of fresh snow outside, and it was still 
snowing furiously. For a time their tent had slid 
the snow from its sides and peak, but now that, too, 
was covered, and on all sides of it snow was shoulder 
deep. The campfire place was buried under three 
feet of snow, and they must find kindlings and bark 
before they could start another fire. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


SNOWED IN COMFORT IN A LOG HUT “DO YOU SEE THE 

PASS?” 

“ ‘Now is the winter of our discontent made glori- 
ous summer’ — No; I’m dinged ef ’tis! We’re 
pris’ners, my boy. Did ye know it? Ef ’twas 
Feberary or earlier, I wudn’t give a picayune fer 
our chances o’ gettin’ out o’ here alive. As ’tis, we 
may lay here two days er two weeks — sartinly not 
longer, fer the spring chinookers air gettin’ mighty 
frequent.” 

“Do you think there is any liability of our being 
held here two weeks?” inquired Rex, in dismay. 
“Why, we could go back, couldn’t we?” 

“Ef yer wanter see how fur yer kin go through 
this snow, an’ ’tain’t quit yit, by a long shot, jest 
waller out to that stub yonder with an axe an’ cut 
off some slivers. ’Tain’t more’n three hundred yard, 
but I’ll bet ye don’t get there in less’n fifteen 
minutes, an’ that yer all tired out when ye do.” 

With a smile of derision, Rex took up the axe and 
started out, but to his surprise found he made little 
headway. This snow was damp and heavy beyond 
any he had ever seen before, yet lay so loose that he 
sank in it to his armpits, and could hardly flounder 
along. He was twenty minutes reaching the stub, 
and was then so tired he could hardly stand, but 
rather felt like lying down and giving up. “What 

282 


SNOWED IN 


283 


could I do with a pack on my back?” thought he. 
‘‘I couldn’t make a mile a day.” Then, too, the 
warmth of his body in exercise had caused his cloth- 
ing to absorb dampness, and he was as wet as if 
dipped in a river. “I’m wet through already, 
Elias,” he called out. 

“Yes; I persoom ye be. It’s different exercisin' 
in snow from what ’tis layin’ down in it with 
blankets an’ cedar boughs round ye.” 

Rex soon had an armful of kindlings hewed off 
the dry stub, and started back, but he found that 
even this light load rendered his progress almost as 
difficult as before, although a path had been 
broken. Elias had been using the gold pan as a 
shovel, and now had a pit some eight feet deep 
shoveled out before the front door. In this he 
started a small fire, and taking the axe wallowed 
out to the nearest fir tree, from which he began 
hewing bark, while Rex hovered over the fire and 
shivered. 

“Git a move on ye, boy, an’ pack this bark over 
to the fire. What a dispensation o’ Providence fir 
bark is! Jest think of a green bark six inches thick, 
er near it, that’ll almost light from a match, an’ that 
burns like coal ! I tell ye, fir bark’s saved many a 
man’s life, when he’s ketched in this way. See that 
fire blaze up, will ye? Snows fast ’nough ter put 
any ordinary fire out, but our’n seems burnin’ all the 
better. Now we’ll go while we’re wet, cut a han- 
speek an’ pry off a waggin load o’ that bark in ’bout 
ten minutes. Oh, we ain’t a-goin’ to freeze. We’ll 
lay here, snug as a bug in a rug. I’ll read an’ you 



SNOWED IN 


285 


kin larn to chaw terbacker ter pass away the time. 
Once when I was up in the Snoquelmie region, on 
the headwaters, away above them three hundred 
foot falls, I got ketched like this in a cabin, in the 
center of a little nateral medder like ye’ll see over 
in these valleys beyond the pass we’re makin’ fer; 
an’ there wan’t a fir tree in four hundred yard er 
more. That snow kim on in the night, an’ ’fore it 
quit ’twuz twelve foot deep — cl’ar up ’bove the 
eaves o’ that shack. Wall, it turned , round quite 
cold, but not cold enough ter, freeze a crust, an’ I 
had ter waller out an’ pack that bark in. I’d work 
’bout five hours ter git enough bark ter do my 
cookin’. The rest o’ the time I laid rolled up in my 
blankets, readin’ Plutarch’s Lives, an’ another book 
I had with me. I wuz in that cabin seventeen, days, 
an’ if I hedn’thed a purty good grub-stake with me, 
I’d ’a starved. As ’twuz, I et my little dog an’, a rat 
I ketched in the cabin. Tell folks back east ’bout 
this, an’ they’d think I wuz a first-class liar, 
wouldn’t they? Say! it’s snowed arfoot sence.we 
got up. I ain’t sure but we’ll have con sid’ able of a 
storm right here yet.” 

While Elias was cooking breakfast, Rex scraped 
all the snow off the tent, banking it up about the 
sides, and then both crawled inside and sat there in 
the heat, their wet clothes steaming, and ate like 
famished wolves. “This is the kind o’ snow,” 
declared Elias, “what kills off game in this region. 
Ye won’t see so much as a deer up through here fer 
thirty mile er more. It’s too fur from tide water 
fer ’em to git down in case of a sudden storm, an’ 


286 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


too fur from the pass ter allow ’em to go over ter 
the valleys iti the interior, where snow never falls 
more’n a foot er two, an’ then don’t stay long. 
Queer ’bout them valleys. I expect it’s the chinook 
winds an’ the breezes from the Japan current com- 
bined makes ’em free from snow. Say! we got 
seven foot o’ snow this minit. I’ll say it fer yer 
comfort, we’re liable ter git up ter-morrer mornin’ 
an’ find the snow half gone, with a rain movin’ it 
fast. By Gum! I’ve made a discovery. Cur’ous I 
didn’t see that afore. Right over there’s a cedar 
ten or twelve foot through. We won’t be bothered 
keepin’ fire to-night. We’ll burn that.” 

“Yes, but it’s green,” interposed Rex. 

“An’ so be you, if ye don’t know that every cedar 
in all this sound region, ’bove eighteen inches 
through, is rotten at the heart an’ full o’ gum. 
Light a fire at the root an’ it’ll burn from twelve to 
forty-eight hours an’ fall. That tree’s good fer 
twenty- four hours ’fore it falls, an’ fer twenty-four 
after the stump an’ trunk’ll be a mass o’ red-hot 
coals. We’ll light that ter-night, specially if it leans 
away from us. ’ ’ 

It did lean away, and at seven they started a fire 
between two of its great spur roots. For an hour or 
more it sputtered and burned slowly, when there 
was a pop, and out from its great trunk, fifty feet 
above, came a wreath of smoke. This increased 
within the next hour to a tongue of flame, and now 
up inside this enormous tree the flames were fiercely 
roaring, while from several other places higher up 
came smoke. 


SNOWED IN 


287 


“That’ll fall ’bout ter-morrer noon,” remarked 
Elias, as he rolled up in his blanket, “an’ it’s 
mighty lucky ’tain’t nearer the tent, or the heat’d 
drive us out. As ’tis, I bet you four bits you see 
bare ground all ’long between here and it. ’ ’ At 
two o’clock the next morning Rex was awakened by 
the heat. The entire tree was now burning like 
some huge blast-furnace, and all about, for several 
feet, the snow was thawed to the ground. The next 
morning, as Elias had prophesied, it was burning 
more fiercely than ever. The fall of snow had 
ceased, and. a warm rain was fast lowering the great 
white mass. At 1:30 p. m., the great tree fell, 
breaking off seventy-five feet from the ground. The 
tall stub continued to burn steadily, however, and was 
still furnishing great heat at the time they retired. 
The next morning it was smoldering, being burned 
down to about ten or twelve feet from the ground. 
The weather had changed to freezing, and on top of 
the two or three feet of snow remaining heavy crust 
had formed. 

“We’ll up stakes an’ outen this ’bout eight 
o’clock,” remarked Elias. “Ought to make Camp 
Seven to-day if the cold holds.” By eight or a 
little later they were started, and over the snow 
crust and comparatively level surface made rapid 
time. “I kalkerlate we’re makin’ three mile an 
hour. Keep this up six hours, with a half-hour fer 
a bite, an’ we’re at Camp Seven.” 

“Where and what is this Camp Seven, Elias?” 

“Oh, jest a rough box o’ logs, four foot high 
inside an’ bout 6x8 foot on the ground. The Marple 


288 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


boys who discovered this pass we’re makin’ fer 
helped me build it one August day away back in 
’87. Kalkerlated it fer a stoppin’ place an’ a store- 
house fer picks, powder, an’ so on. It’s ’bout 
twelve mile up this third branch we’re goin’ to take, 
an’ ’bout six mile this side o’ the pass. It’s down 
in among the heavy timber, an’ that year tliar wan’t 
any snow there after July till September. Kinder 
queer ’bout this country. I’ve seen snow here in 
August, an’, agin, I’ve gone through the pass on 
bare trail an’ green grass as early as the 20th of 
April. No tellin’ what ’ll be. That’s what makes 
it so dangerous. Here’s the Third Branch now. 
Turn squar’ to the west here. Jest ’bout eighteen 
mile to the skyline yonder, an’ all the way up hill.” 

While talking they had been rounding an immense 
dome of solid rock, at the base of which they could 
hear the small river gurgling along, beneath the 
snow or through it, where the crust had broken or 
fallen in ; for in many places this Third Branch, here 
a rapid running stream not more than six or eight 
feet wide, was entirely hidden. Such timber as they 
now walked through is rarely seen. The mountains 
rose from 1,500 to 2,000 feet high on either side of a 
broad bottom, and in this the trees averaged from 
six to ten feet in diameter and three hundred feet in 
height, while the ground was as free from under- 
brush as a park. Straight away before them, but 
slanting sharply upward, stretched the valley, all 
white with glittering snow above the tree line, and 
ending seemingly against the very sky in a V-shaped 
notch, Even there the forest did not entirely disap- 


SNOWED IN 


289 


pear, for occasionally was to be seen a patch of pine 
or fir, which even at that distance they could judge 
to be stunted and small. While taking this view, 
they had clambered up to the foot of the south 
precipice, leaving their packs below. Along this 
great bare wall of rock their view was unobstructed. 

“That leetle notch is the skyline of the pass,” 
remarked Elias, “an’ we ma} r go over that to-morrer 
at noon, or we may never go over it. At any rate, 
we kin, I think, make Camp Seven by keepin’ ’long 
to the left whar the sun don’t strike an’ whar the 
crust’ll hold.” 

It was now 9:30 a. m., and they hurried on until 
noon, when they stopped long enough to eat a cold 
piece of dough-gad and drink a cup or two of hot 
coffee each. The traveling was now easy, though 
all the way up hill, and they made good progress, 
but became very tired. At 4:45, with a yell of 
exultation, Elias slid from under his pack and started 
on a run toward a knoll of snow. 

“What is it, Elias?” called Rex, running after 
him. 

“Camp Seven; what d’ye s’pose? Here she is, 
an’ now less dig her out.” Unknown to Rex the 
snow had increased in depth as they ascended, and 
they were now to find their camp under about ten 
feet of solid snow. 

“May find a b’ar in winter quarters in that old 
camp,” panted Elias, as he shoveled away with the 
gold pan. “Hello! I’m down to the door. Now 
look out!” and he stepped back from a hole in the 
logs, some two feet square. “Gimme a piece o’ the 


290 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


pitch pine,” he requested, and Rex handed a 
splinter to him out of the small bundle in one of the 
packs. Elias lighted this, and going down into the 
hole head first, his hunting knife between his teeth, 
peered carefully inside. ‘‘It’s all right! no b’ar 
here!” he called out, and Rex followed, to find him 
with a small fire started in one corner. The smoke 
from this soon filled the log box, and both scrambled 
out, sneezing, gasping and weeping. They dug a 
hole down through the snow to a corner of the 
cabin, where Elias declared a ‘‘hole had been cut a 
puppose fer that there gol darned smudge ter git out 
at.” This was found and opened, the smoke did ‘‘git 
out,” and the fire burned better. The interior of 
this box was floored with small branches and moss 
from the mountain maple, and they found it very 
comfortable. They soon had supper cooking, and 
found no difficulty in making coffee, although the 
beans were boiled for five hours without softening. 

“ ’Fraid we’ll hev to give it up,” remarked Elias, 
ruefully. Altitude’s too great. I hev cooked beans 
here, but it’s a long job. Now another thing — from 
this on, ye mustn’t drink any more water till it’s 
b’iled, fer this snow water so cluss up ter the banks 
is sure ter give ye the mountain fever, in which case, 
I’d be obleeged ter pack ye out to the sound on my 
back. ” 

Their small fire rendered them very comfortable 
that night, although it froze solidly outside, and at 
an early hour they left Camp Seven on a good hard 
crust, feeling quite fresh. Up, up, they journeyed, for 
nearly two hours, having made about four miles, 


SNOWED IN 


291 


and nearly reached the last patch of timber, when 
through the crust went Elias to his armpits, and 
there in the bright warm sunlight he looked around 
with rueful face. 

“It’s no use, my boy. We can’t make the pass 
ter day, an’ we may not fer a week, ’less it grows 
colder. There’s forty foot or more o’ snow under 
us, an’ I tell ye, we’re in danger o’ snowslides 
here.’’ As he spoke there was an ominous rumble, 
seemingly from somewhere far beneath their feet, 
and the great snowfield above suddenly moved down 
toward the center of the valley, carrying several 
acres of snow and rolling over immense boulders as 
easily as a boy could roll a marble. Elias grew very 
pale, and Rex’s teeth chattered from fear and cold. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


A PERILOUS MARCH DOUBLE GRAVE IN THE SNOW THE 

PASS AT LAST 

“I didn’t think the blamed thing ’ud start quite 
so quick,” said Elias. “ ’Taint more ? n nine 
o’clock, an’ here is slides a-startin’ in the meanest 
place in the hull darned mountains. Now we can’t 
go back, an’ we can’t stay here. We got ter reach 
that patch o’ timber up there a half-mile ahead, even 
if we go without our packs. There we’re safe, fer 
that half-acre or more o’ timber is on a little knoll 
’bout fifty foot higher’n the rest o’ this pass. Seems 
to be the nub of a rock what’s clinched down in 
Chiny. Anyway, it never moves, no matter how 
much is slidin’, an’ it’s safe. Kim on now; no 
givin’ up,” and he floundered along beneath his 
pack, sometimes crawling, sometimes wallowing, 
and sometimes out of sight altogether. Within an 
hour he had made a half of the distance, and looked 
back to see Rex tired out and lying helplessly in the 
deep snow. 

“How ye makin’ it back there, boy?” 

“Not very well, I’m afraid,” called out Rex, 
faintly. 

“Oh! ye mustn’t give up. Try it a ways without 
a pack. ’ ’ 

“No; I’m coming up with you now — pack and 
all,” and much to Elias’ surprise Rex floundered to 

292 


A PERILOUS MARCH 


293 


within a few yards of him, when he collapsed again. 

“That won’t do, boy. Ye did that on yer nerve. 
Now rest awhile. Then pick up yer pack an’ come 
slowly along. Be patient an’ moderate, like an ole 
ox. Don’t git fractious, like a fiery hoss, an’ cork 
yer self. ’ ’ 

Rex took this advice, and the two worked slowly 
along together. However, they were two hours 
making the next quarter of a mile to the timber, 
and twice saw small snowslides start from above the 
track they had made in coming, and sweep it out 
forever. Each slide carried five thousand tons or 
more of snow and rock, and had they been in the 
way they must have perished. On reaching the 
timber, they were surprised to find the crust hard, 
and they walked up the steep incline as if on 
asphalt. 

“Why is this, Elias?’’ 

“The shade o’ these trees makes the difference. 
If it had ben cloudy to-day an’ as cold as ’ tis, we’d a 
gone over the pass by noon. Ye see, that sun this 
time o’ year beats down terrible strong on them 
rocky walls, an’ you notice ’bout all the snowslides 
starts from up against them walls. Now we may, 
unless we git started ’bout four o’clock in the 
morning, lay here fer a week; but I’ve got an idee 
it’ll freeze ter-night — alius does up here after one 
o’ these clear bright days, even in August, an’ if it 
does, we’ll go over the pass before seven o’clock. 
Wall! it’s one now. Less have somethin’ to eat.” 
As he finished, he picked up his axe and attacked 
one of the stunted pines of the grove in which they 



“DID \0U EVER SEE SUCH A WHIRL OF FLAME?” 


294 


A PERILOUS MARCH 


2 95 


were standing. “That little cuss may ’a ben dead a 
thousand year,” he grunted, as he endeavored in 
vain to get a large chip from it, “an’ it’s ben 
hardenin’ all the time. Mighty near as hard as a 
stun.” The tree was not more than ten inches in 
diameter, and ordinarily Elias could have felled one 
of its size in five minutes, but this one occupied him 
a quarter of an hour. Near it stood another, also 
dead, but not as hard, which Elias declared hadn’t 
“ben dead more’n five hundred year. ” These two 
made kindling, and across them green trees, cut 
from the thick growth, were thrown, burning 
fiercely and with great heat on account of the pitch 
and resin in them. And now a singular event 
occurred. The fire had just begun to leap up and a 
pot of coffee was making, when flame shot in all 
directions above and around their heads; there was a 
roar as of some rushing wind, and the flame, having 
touched and blackened every tree in this big grove, 
was gone. They must have doubted their eyes and 
ears, but for . the fact that a pall of black smoke 
floated up the pass toward the skyline. 

“What in the world made that, Elias? Did you 
ever see such a whirl of flame in all your life? And 
so quick, too!” 

“Yes, I’ve seen it. That was the gum, rawsin 
an’ pitch what comes out o’ these trees at this 
season. A leetle later they’d ’a burnt worse. ” 

After felling a few more trees across the fire, 
Elias declared his intention of going to the skyline 
of the pass. Leaving their packs and taking only a 
gun, they started out, to find the snow already 


296 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

forming 1 a thin crust as the sun’s rays grew more 
slanting. By traveling along the south wall in the 
shade, they could walk on this, and they made the 
mile and a “half to the skyline before five o’clock. 
Here they had expected a grand view, and especially 
a view of the green valleys Elias had promised, but 
in this they were disappointed. Since starting out, 
a vast quantity of clouds and fog had rolled up all 
the main valleys from the north, east and west, and 
they could only look out across the sea of cloud, up 
through which snow-capped mountains, with here 
and there bare wind-swept rocks, reared their heads 
like islets and icebergs on a silent ocean. 

“How still it is up here!’’ remarked Rex. As he 
spoke his voice had a hollow, far-away sound, and 
seemed carried from him by the circling winds which 
moaned about the bare rocky walls. 

“Yes; an’ what’s more, it’s goin’ ter be darnation 
cold ’fore long. Let’s climb down.’’ The return 
was not difficult, and within forty-five minutes they 
had leaped, rolled and wallowed down to the patch 
of timber, where they found the fire burning furi- 
ously in a sort of well it had thawed for itself in the 
deep snow. They were disappointed that it had 
not thawed out a larger section, for it was not above 
twenty feet across, though now eight feet or more 
deep ; and they determined to build a still larger fire 
that would thaw out a camping place. Elias swung 
the axe steadily, with expert, powerful blows, for an 
hour, while Rex dragged brush and logs to this 
well and tossed them in. By this time they had going 
a fire they were confident would last until morn- 


A PERILOUS MARCH 


297 


in g, the heat of which was so great that they could 
not stand within fifteen feet of the brink of the 
well. They started another small fire for cooking, 
and after supper, as it was nearly dark, went over to 
the big fire to begin preparations for the night. To 
their chagrin, they found it was burning so fiercely 
that they could not trust themselves within the pit it 
had created. They had expected to find a large 
place thawed out, and so there was — a twelve or 
fourteen foot well, but it was not thirty feet wide, 
and its sides were ice down which trickled infinitesi- 
mal streams of water. To be sure, it was thawing, 
but not before midnight would the fire be low 
enough or the sides thawed out far enough for them 
to be able to camp in the pit, while at present the 
slant was such — the pit being basin-shaped — that a 
start from the brink would be pretty sure to land 
the venturer feet first in that glowing fire. To sleep 
upon the snow outside was to lose all advantage of 
the fire, and so they decided to cut a trench down 
one side of the pit that would enable them to lie with 
their feet to the fire, and some eight feet below the 
surface of the crust. It was eleven o’clock when 
they finished this task, so hard was the snow, which 
Elias declared had lain there since Columbus dis- 
covered America. One worked in the pit with an 
axe, cutting great blocks of the icy snow, which he 
threw up to the other, who in turn threw it back out 
of the way. The trench, or grave, as they called it, 
being finally completed, they threw icy brush into 
the bottom, rolled up in their blankets, and, pulling 
the tent over them, soon fell asleep. They were 


298 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

very tired, and slept heavily, their feet and limbs 
being- warm and comfortable, but at four o’clock in 
the morning Rex was awakened by a numb pain on 
the side of his face. He sat up, and by the dim light 
saw that Elias’ ear, where his long hair did not 
cover it, was white. He at once awakened him. 

“Why, the hull side o’ yer face is froze, an’ yer 
ear too,’’ exclaimed Elias, as he sat up. “Ye see, 
that dasted fire got low an’ the frost fell. I tell ye, 
we had a cold night fer the sound region, even if 
it is May. I kalkerlate thar must be forty degrees 
difference between here an’ the sound. Now, down 
thar, even when we left, the fruit trees were through 
blossomin’, an’ thar ain’t ben a trace o’ frost down 
along the coast in a month. But then, that’s 6,500 
foot lower ’n we are, an’ fifty mile nearer tide water 
— water kept partly warm all winter by the Jap cur- 
rent. Clap some snow on that face, an’ keep 
puttin’ it on. Don’t go nigh the fire, but put snow 
on an’ gently rub it. ’Twont be any wusser’n a 
sunburn if ye do.” Elias now applied snow to his 
own ear, and then bustled round preparing break- 
fast. He declared they must start by five o’clock, 
and that the crust was now in condition. Even up 
that extreme slant they could make the mile and a 
half in two hours. This they did, and at seven 
o’clock on the 14th day of May Rex looked out upon 
the grandest view of his life, a view that probably 
not more than twenty-five or thirty men now living 
have ever beheld, and one that is undoubtedly the 
fairest, wildest and most wonderful in all the north- 
west. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


ON PISGAH’S LOFTY HEIGHT I STAND A CANAAN AMONG 

SNOWPEAKS 

As Rex and Elias toiled up the slope that morn- 
ing, the stars which had twinkled so brightly in the 
steel-like dome above slowly faded away, and pale 
beams of light shot across and changed that dome 
from steel to azure blue. As they neared the sky- 
line, it too had changed from black to a blue, darker 
than the blue of its background. Finally, they 
could see over it — it was skyline no longer — and 
they now beheld a long, hog-backed ridge of snow, 
apparently close behind. 

“Mount Olympus,” panted Elias. “Seven mile 
due west from this notch, as the crow flies, as you’ll 
see when we git up thar; Not less’n fifteen mile 
down through the valley on ’tother side and atween 
this notch an’ it. Don’t look it, does it ? By 
ginger! we’re a-goin’ ter hev a blizzard right in the 
pass. Git yer bearin’s an’ keep climbin’ or ye may 
git turned round. Lucky we’re above any crevices 
or jump-offs. All we got ter do is ter keep wigglin’ 
up.” 

Sure enough, a black cloud had swung around the 
south end of Mount Olympus, and was coming 
straight across the valley toward the pass, a grace- 
ful trail of whirling snow falling from it as it came. 
“That’ll be rain in the valley twenty-five hundred 

299 


300 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

feet below this pass,” was Elias’ comment. All this 
time they were struggling up, and just before they 
reached the highest point of the pass the snow 
squall struck them. Damp from its journey across 
the warmer valley, only to freeze up in this pass, it 
was absolutely blinding, and the whirling wind 
which accompanied it almost took the breath away. 
They tramped along through it about ten minutes, 
and then stopped, for, as Elias declared, they had 
reached the pass, and would wait until the squall 
swept by, so as to get the view. Each looked at the 
other amused, for face and clothing were plastered 
with the snow, which was now thawing to water on 
flesh and turning to ice on hair, beard and garments. 
Elias, with his hoary locks, looked a veritable king 
of winter, as, standing with his hand protecting his 
eyes, he shouted: ‘‘Here comes the last of it! I see 
Olympus through it. There comes the green grass 
and the shinin’ river away down there. See ’em?” 

Rex looked down through the last faint fall of 
snow and rain, and seemingly at his feet, but miles 
away, beheld a treeless valley, green as emerald, 
and with bright waters flashing where a little river 
wound its way. To the south — he was looking west 
— were snow ridges and peaks. To the north 
Olympus ended in a frowning, rocky head, apparently 
three thousand feet sheer, and strangely similar to 
the profile of an African negro. One instant the 
fitful winds brought up to his ears the roar of waters 
leaping down innumerable green runs and swales 
that from the valley up slashed the white mantle of 
the mighty mountain. The next, this roar had died 



3° 2 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


away, succeeded by softly soothing strains as if some 
vast aeolian harp had been swept by the unseen 
breezes, which were now bending the graceful fir 
forests on the higher slopes. It was indeed a picture 
of beauty, and one on which a traveler, having 
tramped that awful solitude of snow, for seven weary 
days, could well feast his eyes — this vale of grass 
and flowers not four miles distant. 

“Now turn and look back over the way we’ve 
come,” cried Elias. Rex did turn, and as his eyes 
slowly took in the view, he gulped back a great sob, he 
knew not why, and could not by any effort control 
the flow of tears which ran fast down his cheeks. 

To the east, stretching away and sharply down- 
ward, was the valley up which he had toiled eight- 
een weary miles. From where he stood, it looked 
like some vast roof gutter. Its bare bleak sides of 
almost perpendicular rock were wind-swept and 
snowless. Down this valley, the boisterous west 
wind was chasing the clouds composing the recent 
snow squall, and these, rolling, surging and 
tumbling, like sheep before a drover’s dog, seemed 
in frantic haste to get ahead and through the narrow 
passage way. To the south, where the Third Branch 
joined the Big River, was a huge truncated cone of 
rock, two thousand feet or more in height, and even 
at that distance gigantic. The clouds surged up 
against the rocky ridge to the east of the main Big 
River, and then, buffeted by a north wind, swept 
round the huge cone, until the last had departed, 
leaving the valley lone and deserted. From his 
height Rex could look over the top of the ridge east 


ON PISGAH’S LOFTY HEIGHT I STAND 303 


of Big River, the ridge that shows up from the 
sound on ordinary days, while Olympus and the 
interior peaks show only on exceedingly clear days. 
But this was now a very clear morning, and he could 
look out over the sound, even across the vast pall of 
clouds that hung low over it. Even as he looked, a 
quick strong north wind swept down, and that pall 
commenced to wrinkle and hunch up here and there, 
to be at last torn and thrown to one side as if snatched 
by some mighty unseen hand. 

First, in the far north appeared Baker, a huge 
heap of snow and ice. Then, as the cloud banks 
moved rapidly southward, the sunny wall of the 
Cascades rapidly appeared and lengthened — a wall 
of pure white, except for somber dark slashes here 
and there, down which deep rivers were hurrying. 
As this wall lengthened and stretched away to the 
south, up out of the banks and fogs rose mighty 
Mount Rainier. First its crown; then a flash from 
its alabaster sides, as the sun kissed them; then a 
quicker, fiercer rent in the curtain, and like some 
magnificent marble column, the whole majestic 
mountain stood bare and brilliant, towering far 
above all its fellows. And now between this Cas- 
cade wall and the Olympic coast range lay the 
uncovered sound, stretching north and south in the 
glorious sunshine, more than a hundred miles. 
Kitsap peninsula, from four to nine miles wide and 
thirty miles long, looked like a dark finger laid out 
across the surface of a steel-blue plate. At the tip 
of this finger was an ocean steamer, a tiny moving 
speck, rounding Foul Weather Bluff, and creeping 


304 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


on toward Seattle, which in the far distance looked 
like a bit of brown bunch grass, grown on the edge 
of the dark green carpet stretching out toward the 
feet of the Cascades. Lake Washington, with its 
twenty-seven miles of shining length, seemed a bit 
of mercury or molten metal from the main mass, 
and Lake Union like a still smaller piece. At his 
feet, between him and this sound region, lay the 
most wonderfully broken-up country he had ever 
seen or dreamed of. Its crags, crevasses, peaks, 
and gloomy valleys, filled him with awe. It was as 
if the Omnipotent hand had tossed the earth’s crust 
skyward, letting it fall where it would. And all this 
brought tears. Views less grand have brought tears 
for many a strong man. This, the grandest of all, 
probably not one human eye a year has rested on 
since the world’s creation. Rex realized this, and 
was thankful, even if his trip brought him no other 
reward. He looked long and then turned to Elias, 
who stood like a statue. Without removing his eyes 
from the scene before him, the giant began as one 
inspired: 

“Do ye. wonder I love the mountains? Do ye 
think, after seein’ all this as we have this mornin’, 
either one on us can ever believe there ain’t no God? 
Why, boyee! hear His breath in the forests and 
among the crags about an’ above us. Watch His 
sunshine spreadin* itself out across this reservoir, 
meltin’ its snows an’ sendin’ ’em leapin’ down to be 
distilled an’ purified in the great ocean, an’ in fogs 
an’ vapors rolled up agin. See that ole eagle a 
mailin’ away yonder? Well, I’d ruther be him 


ON PISGAH’S LOFTY HEIGHT I STAND 305 


a-sailin’ round over these knobs than ter be even an 
Astor or a Vanderbilt an’ not know an’ feel there 
was a God. I’druther be myself , an’ drag these big 
feet round over these hills, where I alius feel as if 
there was a God, than ter be one o’ them skeptics 
what sets in cities an’ doubts everything. I’m alius 
happy when I’m up here, I am,” and his big eyes 
grew as lustrous as those of a Moses on the heights 
of Pisgah. “But this standin’ here won’t do; ye’re 
tired out, boy, an’ so’m I. Kim on down now, an’ 
we’ll take a snooze on that green grass away below 
there that’ll last all day an’ all night too,” and he 
lengthened his stride down the slope. 

Within an hour they were down some three miles, 
even with the snow line, and were coming into 
green grass, which in the majestic forest through 
which they were now traveling grew rankly luxu- 
riant, for there was no underbrush. They had seen 
tracks of deer, elk and bear in the snow coming 
down, and now they noticed a deer between the tree 
trunks, gazing at them in apparent surprise, but 
without fear. “Don’t shoot!” whispered Elias. 
“We’ll git one nearer camp. They’re mighty thick 
round here. This is a great game country. Nobody 
gits in here, an’ they’re tame.” 

Rex refrained, and as they came out into the 
open, natural meadow below, saw that Elias was 
right. There were a score feeding in sight at that 
instant. Some of these trotted away to cover, but 
others showed no more alarm than might so many 
domestic cattle. Almost at the river’s edge, in a 
sheltered spot behind a dense thicket, they pitched 


30 6 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

camp on the green grass. Everywhere about on 
this grass, or rather underneath its matted surface, 
were limbs and small tree trunks. Dry as a bone 
and without bark, they can be found in any of these 
valleys, in places two miles from any adjacent for- 
est. The only explanation that can be given is that 
heated lava has in time past run down, forming these 
natural meadows and carrying these branches on its 
bosom, but if so, why did not these branches burn? 
That they will burn and that they make most excel- 
lent fuel, Rex and Elias can attest, and, within an 
hour, they had gathered a large enough quantity to 
supply the small fire they needed for a week, and 
before this fire they lay down to sleep. 

At 6 p. m., Rex awoke and found Elias with 
supper ready. They ate, rolled up again, and slept 
until the next morning. Elias had shot a young 
and tender fawn the night before, and on this they 
made a second meal. As they ate, Elias, nodding 
towards the southwest, remarked, “That crater’s 
right over that way, ’bout fourteen or fifteen mile. 
We may not be able to *git there fer a week, but 
we’ll have a try at it to-day. ’’ 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


‘‘rock of ages,” a “bottomless pit,” and other 

UNCANNY WONDERS REX DISAPPEARS 

While preparing to leave camp, Rex was amazed 
to see three very large bear walk out from the forest 
and lumber across the grass plot in their awkward 
way, occasionally stopping to crop the green herbage 
as a cow might. “An’ yet they tell me b’ar don’t 
eat grass,” laughed Elias. “Now, boy, you’ll see a 
good many b’ar up in here, but ye don’t want ter be 
poppin’ at ’em with that single-shot buck ye carry” 
(Rex’s rifle was a 40-82 Winchester), “fer jest’s 
like as not, ye’ll let inter a grizzly or a bald-face, 
an, then ye won’t go back, unless I pack yer bones 
over the hills in a gunny sack. Now, them three out 
there is all mountain black. Ye might make ’em 
run if ye shot at ’em, an’ ye might not. They 
might run for ye. Best way is to scare ’em like 
this” — and he drummed on the gold-pan, whereat 
the bears hurried into the forest. “You won’t be 
able to pack any b’ar hide out o’ here, but if ye 
want a pop at a b’ar jest fer fun, sometime ’fore we 
go home, I’ll stan’ by an’ let ye kill a big un. If 
one charges ye an’ I’m long with ole ‘Kill-Duck,’ 
ye’ll see a hole blowed in a b’ar bigger’n yer hat.” 

Rex laughed, but said nothing as he assisted in 
slinging their packs up on a limb. “Kim on, now. 
Let’s up stakes an’ out o’ this. As Mr. Shakespeare 

307 


3°8 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


beootifully says, ‘The inaudible an’ noiseless foot o’ 
Time steals by us ’fore we can effect our plans.’ 
An’ it’s so. Ole Time is gittin’ thar with both feet.” 

They had taken only three days’ provisions and 
their guns, and under this light pack they tramped 
smartly along, keeping the main elk trails, here as 
broad as a wagon road and in many places actually 
dusty, so quick was the ground to shed water at the 
base of peaks of volcanic formation. As they 
progressed, the valley grew rapidly narrower and 
very rough, the waters of the little river falling in 
the most beautiful cascades and waterfalls of varying 
height. Soon they entered another higher and 
wider valley. Here they found snow of slight depth, 
all the way down to the shore of a pretty little lake, 
lying like a jewel in the center of the valley. 

‘‘That lake’s shaller, ” explained Elias, ‘‘an’ is 
simply a widenin’ out o’ this little river, which I 
think is one o’ the head streams o’ the Dungeness 
what flows inter the straits ’bout eighty mile north. 
To-day ’ll thaw all this snow off, an’ you’ll see green 
grass under it. It’s seldom that snow lays in this 
valley or any o’ these valleys, even in winter. See ! 
a big band o’ elk’s ben through here to-day. 
They’re makin’ fer the canon, layin’ to the south, 
an’ they went right up over this pass we’re makin’ 
fer now. We’ll take their trail, fer they’re better 
judges o’ such matters ’an what we are. Hello! 
Thar they be, right ahead. See?” 

Rex could hardly believe his eyes. There in two 
droves, -led by less than half a dozen bulls, he 
counted eighty of the animals. The bulls had all 



3io 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


shed their horns, but could be distinguished by their 
great size. One especially was larger than any ox 
Rex had ever seen. Elias informed him that three 
months later all the bulls would have horns of full 
size, though tender and “in the velvet, ” and that 
then would commence the “running season,” when 
the bulls fought and were really dangerous, espe- 
cially if molested. Now, however, they were like a 
drove of domestic cattle, and leisurely worked their 
way up through the snow toward the pass, the big 
bull leading and followed by detachments of from 
four to eight cows and calves, each led by a smaller 
bull. The trail they made was a broad one, and 
rendered travel easy, so that the pass was reached 
within two hours, and before them lay a long green 
valley, wooded only on its edges and with a large 
bright stream running through its center. 

“In that stream an’ in that lake back there is the 
all firedest great mountain trout ye ever see. Some 
on ’em long as my arm an’ weighin’ five an’ six 
pound,” said Elias. “Course, ye kin ketch bigger 
trout in the Ducquebush or Doseewallops, whar 
I’ve hooked Char an’ Dolly Varden an’ Rainbow as 
high as eighteen pound, but they ain’t got the fight 
in ’em these fellers have. These fellers come four 
foot up out the water, the bright drops failin’ like a 
shower o’ dimunds as they writhe in the air an’ 
shake their ole flukes. They won’t take the bait till 
Tong the first o’ June, an’ only ’bout four hours in 
the middle o’ the day then, but fer three months or 
more they’re hungry as wolves. D’ye see that ledge 
runnin’ Tong thar, fer ’bout three mile southeast, 


“ROCK OF AGES”— “A BOTTOMLESS PIT” 311 

an’ twice as fur northwest? Wall, ther’s only one 
place ye kin climb that, an’ up thar is whar we’re 
goin’. May be so much snow on we can’t make it, 
but right on top o’ that ledge, inside the square 
tower ye see off to the left, is the crater. I ain’t 
sure but we’d better go back ter-morrer, git our 
packs an’ settle down in this valley. ’Tain’t quite so 
warm as the one below, but it’s nearer our ‘yob,’ as 
the Swedes say. Now, we’ll go down diagonal, an’ 
head fer that bare ’butment behind which is the 
crater. ’ ’ 

As they went down through the forest where the 
large trees stood wide and grass grew thick, Rex 
thought he had never seen anything more beautiful, 
and wondered why these mountain valleys had not 
been settled. “They will be by stockmen, ’’ was 
Elias’ answer, “for nothin’ else would pay. Thar 
isn’t a month in the year but frost falls here, an’ ye 
couldn’t raise even buckwheat er spuds. At present 
the cougar an’ wolves would kill off cattle. Them 
varmints kill off more elk an’ deer than men do, an’ 
they don’t know any game season either. Here’s a 
pebble I want ye to look at. I call it ‘Rock o’ Ages,’ 
’cause it’s cleft fer me.’’ 

Rex paused in amazement, for never in all his 
wanderings had he seen anything more singular. A 
rock at least one hundred and fifty feet high and as 
wide — it had originally been a huge sphere — lay 
there in the forest, where it had evidently fallen 
after some vast eruption, which had hurled it per- 
haps miles through space. It was now cleft exactly 
through the center as if from a blow of some mighty 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


3 1 2 

sword, and lay there gaping asunder. There was 
not another rock or stone near it. A little distance 
beyond they came to what Elias called the Bottom- 
less Pit. 

This was a hole in the hillside about ten feet high 
and twenty-five wide. Its mouth was covered by 
sand as if water had sometime gushed forth, and 
far down the slope was a track through the forest, 
spreading fan-shape, in which stood dead trees. 
Elias was of the opinion that this hole was the mouth 
of some huge hot-water spring, which gushing forth 
had killed the trees before it. In the sand and on 
the soft bare soil outside were tracks of cougar and 
wolves, leading in and out, showing that dens were 
in there. It was a gloomy looking cavern, and 
Elias declared it took a drop some distance back in 
the mountain. To prove this, he searched about 
until he found a rock about the size of a butter tub, 
and this he rolled in. The surface was a sharp 
incline down, and the rock was soon lost to view. 
Then there was a crash, as if it had fallen fifty or 
sixty feet, soon after another, thirty seconds later a 
faint “tunk,” and then a splash, the echoes of which 
came up like a voice through a tube. 

“Jest whar that rock’ll fetch up would be hard to 
say, but probably somers this side o’ Chiny, ’’ said 
Elias, as they turned away. 

They soon reached the greener and treeless por- 
tion of the valley, and across this beautiful meadow 
they strolled, looking up and down its six or eight 
miles of length and seeing no less than four bear at 
one time and from eighty to one hundred elk and 


“ROCK OF AGES”— “A BOTTOMLESS PIT” 313 

deer. As they neared the fringe of forest along the 
base of the five hundred foot ledge they were 
approaching, a huge black timber wolf whisked out 
of the shadow and into it again. Both saw him and 
other motions farther back, which Elias declared 
was a pack of wolves, lurking about to sally forth 
and attack some injured elk or deer, or some stray 
one that might wander away from the main herd. 
Elias also explained that these cowardly brutes sel- 
dom attack man unless very hungry, and then only 
when he is alone, and that they seldom attack elk in 
herds, as the elk or deer strike viciously with their 
fore feet, and in season prod with their “dog 
killers.” “Of course,” continued Elias, “if a hun- 
dred o’ them fellers got together, an’ wuz good an’ 
hungry, they’d come out o’ them woods now an’ sail 
into you an’ me or them elk. Hunger’ll drive ’em 
to almost anything.” 

The great ledge or wall they were approaching 
seemed to exhibit all the colors of the rainbow. 
Rex had supposed this to be the reflection of the 
woods and green meadows at its base, but now he 
was surprised to find that these colors originated in 
a growth of delicate mosses, which, beginning about 
one hundred feet from the ground, spread all across 
the face of this great cliff, with an effect that can be 
better imagined than described. In one place, these 
mosses represented old gold, in another green, and 
another blue or pink. Again, they beautifully inter- 
mingled with such a variegation of color as no deco- 
rator could match. He tried throwing a stone to 
dislodge some of this close-growing fungus, but his 




REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


best efforts fell twenty feet short of the lowest 
mosses. 

“Mebbe I kin help ye out,” declared Elias, rang- 
ing himself under the cliff and pointing his big gun 
out across its face. As he fired, the buckshot tore 
along, and here and there floated down a patch 
of the delicate tracery thin as tissue and dry as 
the most ancient papyrus. Rex had never before 
seen anything so delicately beautiful, and begged 
Elias to shoot again and again until he had col- 
lected several fine specimens, which Elias assured 
him would forever retain their colors and peculiar 
odor. 

The great wall, before reaching the crater block, 
turned more to the north and in such a way as to 
leave its base perpetually in shadow, or near it, and 
here they found immense quantities of snow. In 
places this snow lay in a huge bank one hundred 
feet in depth, and up over such a drift they must 
clamber to reach the diagonal trail leading above. 
Elias declared this snow never thawed in the warm- 
est weather, and leading the way round a great but- 
tress of rock, exclaimed while pointing, “See that 
stream o’ water coming out that hole in the rock an’ 
surrounded by that firewheel o’ red moss? That 
stream alius flows, an’ remin’s me o’ the rock Moses 
smote. See the steam rise up from the hole in the 
snow that water makes? I kalkerlate that water 
must be warmer’n the snow. Mebbe it’s such a 
spring as they got down to Boise, Idaho. That one 
furnishes a million gallon a day, an’ has force 
enough ter heat the hull darn town, carryin’ hot 


“ROCK OF AGES”— “A BOTTOMLESS PIT” 315 

water to the top o’ five-story baildin’s. It’s hot too 
— hotter, I s’pect, than this.” 

“Did you ever climb up over the snow to that 
stream, Elias?” 

“No, I never, but I know it’s warm, cause it’s 
warm down near the bank o’ the little river, even 
after it’s punched that hole in the snow an’ soaked 
along under the ground.’’ 

“I should think it would melt the snow, Elias.” 

“So ’twould, ef the snow fell tiiar reg’lar, but that 
snow comes by the ton, bein’ swept by wind from all 
’crosst the flat surface away ’bove. Why, I bet 
ther’s days in winter when sixty er seventy feet 
falls off thar. Then the water is purtected by the 
wind an’ falls steady, no less’n seventy-five feet.” 

“Let’s go up there.” 

“No; less take a peek at the crater first. That’ll 
take an hour. ’ ’ 

“And this won’t take fifteen minutes. I’ve got a 
theory and I want to see this stream first, Elias.” 

“All right, young feller. Go ahead, I’ll foller!” 

Rex scrambled up, Elias ten feet behind, and 
reaching the barrel-like hole in the snow crust, 
peered into its dark depths, from which mist slowly 
arose. Then he reached out to touch and test the 
water, when suddenly the crust gave way beneath 
him, and he disappeared from Elias’ wondering eyes. 
Elias crawled up to- the brink of the chasm and 
peered into its dark depths, but heard no sound, 
save that of falling water, striking on rocks far below. 
Then he grew very white, and, sick with horror, 
slowly crawled back down the slope. 


CHAPTER XXXV 


REX TUMBLES INTO AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY PROS- 

PECTING ABOUT THE CRATER 

When Rex felt himself falling, he could do no 
more than make such resistance as a person naturally 
would make under such circumstances. Had he 
fallen through open space he must certainly have 
been killed. As it was, he went down with a great 
quantity of snow and slush, part of which went first, 
forming a cushion for him to alight on. On first 
striking, he rolled down a sharp incline thirty feet- or 
more, and brought up on a bed of sand, with such force 
as to stun him. As he lay there, he could hear Elias 
call, but so dazed was he that he could not answer. 
Slowly his senses came back, and weak and dizzy he 
staggered to his feet. Far above was a circle of 
light, although it was very dark all about him, and 
down through this circle was still pouring the stream 
of water. It was now striking on a heap of snow 
and rapidly thawing a new place for itself. This he 
could make out by the faint light pouring down with 
the water from so far above, and as he looked he 
was quite sure he saw a bare rock under the snow. 
By this time he had collected his senses and strength 
enough to shout, and did shout most lustily. There 
was no answer, and catching up his gun, which lay 
near, he fired it into the darkness about him. The 
report was something so tremendous that it seemed 


AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY 317 

for a time as if he had cracked his ear drums, and he 
reeled about like a drunken man, his ears ringing 
until it seemed as if he should go mad. He sank 
down again, his eyes fixed on the circle of light 
above, when he was overjoyed to see first a large 
segment broken in, and later the outlines of Elias’ 
bushy head peering over. 

“Air ye alive, boyee? Any bones broke?” 

“All right, Elias, only badly shaken up.” 

“Thank the good Lord yer alive. Hear my gun?” 

“No; did you hear mine?” 

“Yes, and I answered. Now, how’m I goin’ to 
git you out?” 

“Don’t dance around on that crust, Elias, or 
you’ll be in.” 

“All right; I sabe. Hollow shell, ain’t it? I’ll 
cave some in.” 

Elias withdrew, and worked for some time outside, 
when another huge section fell, letting in much 
light and fresh air. Rex, by this increased light, 
saw that he was in the mouth of a cavern some six 
or eight feet in diameter and extending back under 
the wall into the ledge, while before it was a cone 
of rock thirty feet or more high, which had by the 
cave-in been covered with snow, but which the warm 
water was washing clean again. 

“The water is warm, Elias!’’ he shouted. 

“Oh! darn the water!’’ called back Elias, as he 
.sent another mass of crust and snow down into the 
pit. “Ef I had suthin’ ’sides this ole tree limb I 
could do suthin’. Say, how much is it a-goin’ ter 
take ter fill up that hole?” 



AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY 


319 


“Three hundred tons, Elias. You can’t fill it up. 
Throw me down a piece of pitch pine for a torch until 
I explore this hole in the hill a ways, and while I’m 
gone knot that rope and throw that down. When I 
come back I’ll climb out.” 

“No, ye don’t, young feller. I promist you 
shouldn’t go inter no more danger than I could 
help. You kim out first on the rope.” 

“I won’t do it, Elias. This is my hole, and I’m 
going to explore it ’ ’ 

“Wall, then, by gum, you’ll explore it with 
matches, fer ye don’t git no rope ner no pine fat till 
ye come up outen thar. Ye’re under my orders, 
mister, an’ I’m goin’ ter keep my word, fer all o’ 
yer dod dasted notions.” 

“All right, General,” said Rex, laughing. “I’ll 
come up first.” 

“Now, then!” said Elias, as he pulled him up over 
the edge of the pit, “the next hole you go to pryin’ 
in tew, I’ll spank ye. Ye like to scart me ter death, 
you leetle cuss, you,” and the big tears rolled down 
his pale cheeks, while his lips trembled with 
nervousness. His evident earnestness robbed Rex 
of all anger and touched him. The boy suggested 
to Elias that they go down together. 

“No, we don’t go down together, Mr. Rex Way- 
land. I’m goin’ down first an’ see if there’s any 
danger. If they ain’t, you kin come.” 

“Got a Shakespearean text for that?” laughed Rex. 

Quick as a flash and extending his long arm in the 
air, Elias roared out in a heavy tragedy voice, 
“ ‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends! Once 


320 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


more!’” Then running back over the snow bank 
to a rock, he tied the long rope, and scrambling up, 
threw its end into the hole. There were seventy- 
five feet or more to spare, and he swung himself 
down, saying: “Git some pitchy pieces off’n that 
stub yonder an’ throw in after me, an’ don’t ye dare 
to kim down till I say ye may.” 

Rex obeyed, and saw him light them, after sliver- 
ing them with his knife. Then he peered into the 
pit only to see Elias disappear in the cavern running 
under the ledge. He was gone but a minute or two 
when he shouted up, “I can’t see any harm in yer 
cornin’ down, pervided yer keerful. ” 

Rex swung down, and the two entered the cavern, 
which seemed worn smooth on every side and was of 
uniform size — nearly eight feet in diameter, as far 
as they could see ahead. The bottom, like the sides, 
was of smooth rock, and over it flowed a thin sheet 
of water, which grew warmer as they proceeded. 
They could see that they were ascending slightly and 
that the cavern was growing warmer. As they 
progressed, it grew quite warm, and when they at 
last brought up before three or four huge logs, 
which, lying across, completely blocked up the pas- 
sage, they found these very warm indeed, while from 
up above and at the bottom, hot water slowly oozed 
through. 

“How fur air we from the base o’ the ledge?” 
inquired Elias. 

“About three hundred and fifty feet, I judge, 
Elias.” 

“Jest you pace it, while I hold the torch,” 


AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY 


321 


Rex did this, and announced at the entrance, “One 
hundred and thirty-seven long paces. That’s nearly 
or quite four hundred feet, possibly four hundred 
and twenty-five. ” 

“Then I’ll bet yer a cookie, Mr. Tumblebug, 
you’ve struck an ole outlet to that there crater up 
above, an’ an outlet which, if we kin open it, will 
drain ’er dry’rn a rag.” 

Rex let out a whoop of delight, and rolled on the 
sand in ecstasy, while Elias, wrinkling his big brows 
in deep thought, remarked: “Keep yer shirt on, till 
I crawl up overhead an’ take measurements. Fol- 
ler me.’’ He swung up, hand over hand, and Rex 
followed. Half-way up the diagonal trail Elias 
shouted back to bring up the rope, and Rex also 
provided himself with several chips of pine. That 
climb was so nearly straight up that, coming as it 
did at the end of the rope exercise, it was nearly 
half an hour before Rex found himself at the sum- 
mit of the ridge where Elias awaited him. There 
they sat and looked down on the lovely valley below, 
over which thin clouds were lazily floating, almost 
on a level with them. 

“Well, now fer measurements!” said Elias, and 
he led the way back along the summit something 
like a quarter of a mile, Rex following. They were 
now on an extremely high plateau of about one 
thousand acres’ space, and it seemed the chief center 
of all the mountain ranges in that vicinity, all other 
ridges radiating from it, like spokes from a hub. 
Not a blade of grass nor a shrub grew upon it. Bare 
and wind-swept, it was as desolate a place as could 


3 22 


REX WAYLAND'S FORTUNE 


well be imagined. Away to the west, tossing, 
fleecy clouds or ocean water, they could not tell 
which, came up against a vast wooded basin, slashed 
by rivers, ravines and gulches. To the south clouds 
hid everything, and to the east were yet higher 
mountains, snow-covered and jagged. Elias con- 
sidered it very fortunate that this plateau was now 
free from clouds, and tramped smartly along until 
at a point nearly opposite the gushing water and the' 
snow banks. Here he made a detour in to avoid a 
deep slanting crevasse, whence the rock Rex had 
found beneath the snow had fallen. At the farther 
side of this crevasse Rex stopped and watched his 
companion, who, sure of foot as a mountain sheep, 
walked steadily along a narrow causeway formed by 
the nearness of the crevasse to a deep pit on the 
other side. “Thar’s yer crater, boyee. Ef ye ain’t 
purty stiddy-headed, ye’d better coon it.” Rex 
knew what this meant, and rather than run any risk, 
got down on all fours and crept along. The crater 
was indeed an uncanny place — a horrible hole in the 
earth, and as Rex surveyed it he saw on the farther 
side the little ledge to which Elias had swung him- 
self in quest of the elk horns. He shuddered. 

“Heavens, man! But you had nerve to swing out 
over that edge. Suppose you’d lost your hold?” 

“I wuzn’t thar fer that purpose, boyee. ’Sides, 
ef I had, thar wan’t no one round ter laugh at me.” 

Rex could find no fitting words to frame an 
answer to such peculiar levity, and taking a chip 
from his pocket tossed it far out, to see it go whirl- 
ing and fluttering down, down, until at last it lightly 


AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY 323 

touched the smooth water. As he leaned over he 
could feel a warm current of air against his face, 
and while the chip floated he asked Elias for the big 
drinking cup strapped to his waist. Tying this to a 
seven hundred and fifty foot fish-line, he let it down, 
and filling the cup, attempted to draw it up. In doing 
this he found that it was being carried by a current 
to some outlet of the lake, toward which the chip 
was now fast hastening. With a quick jerk, he 
loosened the cup, and brought it up over the brink, 
just as the chip disappeared. The water was nearly 
blood warm, and he was now sure the cavern was 
the old outlet of the lake. He threw in a handful 
of the chips, and crawling on his face to the outer 
edge of the ledge, peered over in order to watch the 
stream falling into the snow pit so far below. A 
minute or two later he was almost sure he saw the 
chips disappear. Elias, meanwhile, had been peer- 
ing over into the lake, and at this instant he drew 
back, exclaiming, “See that!” 

Rex hastened to look, but was only in time to see 
a rapidly enlarging ripple. “What was it, Elias?’’ 

“A big bubble an’ a puff o’ steam. They’s hot 
springs at the bottom o’ that hole, an’ I know it. 
Come on. Less climb down to the valley again.’’ 

“What are you going to do, Elias?” 

“To-morrer I’m coinin’ over here with about five 
pound o’ dynamite, an’ I’m goin’ ter put a shot in 
atween them ole logs across that outlet. It’ll stir 
things up some, an’ I hope drain the lake.’’ 

“Good idea,’’ assented Rex, as he clambered 
down. “Great fun when she lets loose, eh?’’ 


324 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


“Bet yer bottom dollar/’ grunted Elias, as he 
toiled down the difficult trail. 

Four hours from that time they were back at their 
first camp, tired and very hungry, and while one 
cooked supper, the other was packing up for their 
removal early the next morning. Rex slept little 
that night, but wondered and planned. Elias, after 
building a good fire, lay down and never once awoke 
or changed position until morning. 


CHAPTER XXXVI 


% 


THE CRATER DYNAMITED — A GRAND SIGHT ELIAS 

BELIEVES REX CRAZY 

It was eleven o’clock before Rex and Elias had 
completed their journey to the new camp. They 
chose a little cup-shaped depression on a knoll at the 
widest portion of the valley, and nearly opposite the 
cavern Rex had so curiously discovered. This knoll 
was about one hundred yards from the little river 
and across it from the cavern. It was about twenty 
feet higher than the remaining slope of the valley, 
that distance from the river, and about fifty feet 
above the river’s surface, by which it must be 
understood that there was quite a sharp grade up from 
the river. It was two hundred and fifty or three 
hundred yards from the forest on its side of the 
valley, and there being only a fringe of large 
trees at the base of the cliff opposite the crater, 
there was practically no forest over there. The 
camp was about two hundred and seventy-five yards 
from the fringe of trees and three hundred yards 
from the entrance of the cavern. The depression 
* on the knoll was natural, a ridge of earth and rock 
forming a natural breastwork all the way round the 
summit. From under the northeast base of this 
ridge a small stream of water bubbled up. One 
interior side of the ridge, the northwest, was per- 
pendicular on the inside and four feet six inches 

325 


3 2 6 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


high, a soft rock cropping out there. Against this 
Elias purposed building a fire, and he declared that 
if they were to stay there any length of time they 
would build a cabin, too. “I never saw a better 
place for a camp,” he declared. “Wood within three 
hundred yards, water at yer feet, an’ everything 
convenient. Now then, we’ll hang up our pack on 
that small tree over thar, an’ then we’ll eat a cold 
snack. Then we’ll go over an’ put a blast under 
that mess o’ logs. I persoom we could punch a hole 
er cut one through them logs, so the water’d run 
through, but what we want is ter open it fer good. 
I hate to waste five pound o’ dynamite, but I sha’n’t 
put in no less’n that, an’ I kalkerlate that orter stir 
things up some. We orter be able ter fix the 
blast ’fore one o’clock, an’ while the water’s runnin’ 
out we kin eat some more. ” 

“I’m fearful we won’t eat much dinner if the 
water runs out all right,” thought Rex, but he said 
nothing and followed Elias’ directions as best he 
could. They had brought twenty-four one-third 
pound sticks of dynamite, and fifteen of these were 
carefully unrolled and laid out on a flat stone at one 
side. A torch of pitch was next prepared by split- 
ting up small splinters and tying them together in a 
bunch with a stick in the center. An armful of wood 
for a fire was also thrown into the pit. Elias soon 
made a handle for the pick and that followed. With 
all their climbing in and out, the bank had so caved 
in that they might possibly have gone down without 
it, but to insure safety, the rope, knotted and secured 
as before, was thrown in. The dynamite was next 



A HUMAN HEAD AND HAND. 

C27 





328 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

carefully let down in a cloth. Then taking hold of 
the rope, Rex and Elias slid down outside of the 
waterfall. As they entered the cavern, Elias pro- 
duced a candle from his pocket and, lightingit, found 
that it furnished plenty of light for travel. The log 
rampart or jam was just as they had left it. The 
scheme of building a fire they gave up, for even the 
smoke of the torch was insufferable in that hot hole. 

“I’d give a good deal,” said Elias, “to know jest 
how thick that jam is. Ye see, it may be the thick- 
ness o’ these logs or it may be three times as thick. 
The measurements we’ve made above an’ below 
show it can’t be more’n ten foot thick unless there’s 
a bank o’ mud t’other side. I’d like to punch a hole 
through, but I dassent, ’cause the water’d spurt out 
an’ drive us out o’ here. A small hole wouldn’t 
drain that lake in all summer. A big one, all of a 
sudden, is what we want. Jest build a little fire 
there back o’ that run an’ see what becomes o’ the 
smoke. It may drive us out, but if it don’t, I wanter 
heat the pick so’s to burn a hole in the logs low 
down, to put in the charge o’ dynamite.” 

“The mouth of the cavern is lower than this, isn’t 
it, Elias?” 

“Yes; I s’pose ’tis, but what of it?” 

“Nothing, except that you can’t get a draft out 
and you’ll be strangled by your smoke. Did you 
ever try to make a stove-pipe draw when the chimne 
hole was lower than the first elbow?” 

“Yes; by gum! I hev; an’ ’twon’t do it nohow. 
You’re right. But what’s your idee on this blastin’ 
business?” 


THE CRATER DYNAMITED 


329 


“I should dig a hole under that lower log as deep 
as I could — say two feet if possible. While that was 
being dug, I should go out and get a bushel or two 
of moist earth, such as would pack. Put the charge 
in the hole, dry dirt atop of that and then ram down 
moist earth and keep ramming until the hole is 
solidly full. Then get as big a piece of rock as 
possible and put it right over the hole and pile more 
against that. You must understand that several 
hundred tons of water is pressing against those logs 
on the other side, and tons of mud, rock and other 
materials are atop of them. You’ve got to get 
under the logs and take advantage of the resistance 
of the solid earth underneath, and then yo if" must 
have the opening packed well enough to furnish 
resistance against a sidewise explosion, else you 
won’t shatter the logs. I have no doubt if you were 
to explode three pounds of No. 1 dynamite right here 
in this cavern anywhere within four feet of those 
logs, you would shatter them somewhat, for the 
resistance on all sides of this little chamber would 
be enormous, but we mustn’t run any risk. We 
won’t be able to get in here again probably, even 
after the explosion of a pound of that stuff, but what 
we want is to insure a good job while we have an 
opportunity to work at it. Therefore, I say, take all 
possible pains.” 

“Yer right, boyee. But where an’ when did ye 
learn so much of dynamitin’? Ye got more head’n an 
old miner.” 

“I never had much experience except on our 
blasts for logging roads, Elias, but while you were 


330 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

asleep last night, I lay and thought this over many 
times. This is the result of my ponderings. ” 

Elias looked his admiration. He went to work 
exactly as Rex had outlined, while Rex went back 
for moist earth. Being enthusiastic, Rex took off 
his hunting coat, filled the body with moist earth, 
and gathering up the skirts and sleeves, staggered 
in through the darkness with his heavy burden. 
Elias meanwhile was burrowing like a woodchuck 
and soon had a hole two feet in depth by the slant, 
and about six inches below the lower log. He had 
to dig to one side of the row and was gratified that 
the water did not fill the excavation. He had 
mainly dug through gravel and volcanic deposit, 
removing but a few stones, but had now struck a 
smooth rock apparently flat and of unknown thick- 
ness. This seemed a good base on which to place 
a big charge of dynamite, and on it he placed fifteen 
No. i candles and prepared his percussion cap with 
a fuse several feet in length, to permit plenty of 
time for getting out. “I’ll bet ’twould hist a feller 
if he stood out at the mouth o’ this cavern when the 
thing goes off. ’’ 

“Scatter him in fragments you’d better say,” 
replied Rex. “This cavern is going to act like a 
gun-barrel, being straight and backed up by that 
great body of water.” 

“S’pose it’ll blow over that knoll we’re encamped 
on out there?” enquired Elias, sarcastically. “No; 
but you’ll see some snow fly and I wouldn’t care to 
stand anywhere in line, for it may plaster the valley 
with ice and rock for five hundred yards out. You 


THE CRATER DYNAMITED 331 

see this cavern is higher than the rock that lies out 
there at its mouth, and as that’s a little to one side 
anyway, there’s going to be a big explosion and 
shower of rock and ice. ” 

“Wall, there!’’ grunted Elias, “that’s ez good a 
job ez I kin do. Now bid good-by to this hole, put 
yer truck in the pockets o’ that coat o’ yourn an’ 
skin out. ’ ’ 

Rex was not long in complying; and took every- 
thing with him as he went. Elias soon came to the 
mouth of the cavern to warn him to look out, went 
back again and again came out, this time running. 
He scrambled up out of the hole with a little assist- 
ance from the rope, and running down the slope, 
started for the camp knoll, which having reached, 
he sat down panting. 

“That snow is going to shut off the out- 
sboot, Elias. How long will it be before she goes 
off?’’ 

“Not more’n ” Elias was interrupted by a 

jar beneath them which seemed to shake the entire 
valley and the big ledge they sat facing. This was 
followed almost immediately by a puff, which threw 
the heavy crust about the snow pit from before the 
cavern, sending a blast of air clear across the little 
river and almost blowing their hats off from their 
heads. For an instant they sat listening to the 
echoes as they went rolling along. Except for these 
there was silence for the space of fifteen seconds, 
when there came a gurgling, roaring rush of water, 
bearing all before it. Out through that great snow- 
bank rushed the contents of the lake. Once after 


332 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


starting* there was a momentary cessation of the 
flow, but it was only momentary, for an instant after 
it gushed forth again, this time bringing out pieces 
of tree trunks and gnarled limbs and sweeping down 
three of the trees that stood in its path. The sight 
was quite thrilling, and demonstrated more fully 
than they had expected the great quantity of water * 
pent up within the crater. A great hole was washed 
out of the bank of the little river opposite the crater, 
and this formed a whirlpool a few yards below the 
knoll. 

“Hello! ‘The rock Moses smote’ has quit busi- 
ness,” exclaimed Rex. “I’d like to be up over- 
head where I could see that water settle. Must 
be like pulling the stopple out of the bottom of a 
bath-tub.” 

“I dunno much ’bout bath-tubs. I ginnerally 
bathe in the sound when I git so I have to,” said 
Elias, “but I do know that if ye wuz up overhead 
ye wouldn’t see much. See that vapor risin’ up 
there? Wall, that’s caused by the cool air strikin’ 
the wet, warm sides o’ the crater. Till it cools off 
an’ dries off down in there, it’ll steam like an ole 
teakettle. ” 

As they talked, the flow continued and the water 
so madly tearing out seemed warmer. It was fast 
meeting the sides of the great snow slope, and this, 
falling in, added to the mass of vapor which was 
arising from all along the river bed. Thus matters 
continued for thirty minutes or more, when it was 
noticeable that the flow was slackening and the river 
lowering. Within ten minutes the flow had slack- 


THE CRATER DYNAMITED 


333 


ened by half and soon there was but a small rill 
where before there had been more than an ordinary 
river. In fact, no one knows or can realize the 
amount of water which by pressure can be forced 
through a six or eight foot tube, unless he under- 
stands mathematical rules and sits down with pencil 
and paper to figure it out. 

As the flow settled down to a rill of a depth of six 
inches, which while quite warm was not by any 
means scalding hot or near it, Elias declared his 
intention of entering the cavern, and they started in 
together. A draft of air was now sucking through 
from the outside, and they knew the lake must be 
lowered to the level of this new outlet. A light 
shone ahead, but as they feared gaps or crevices 
made by the action of the water, they carried a torch, 
which the draft of air nearly extinguished. How- 
ever, they found the path was much as it had been, 
except that more water was flowing through. As 
they walked in through the enormous snowbank at 
the entrance, they laughed at one another for think- 
ing they might have tunnelled through it. “ ’T would 
have been a week’s job,” was Elias’ opinion, and 
Rex agreed with him. 

As they finally came to the inner end of the outlet 
and peered out over the old lake bed and up the 
precipitous walls, they could but stand in awe, 
for such a pit neither had ever before seen. Yellow 
and slimy and steaming where the sun struck in, no 
more peculiar effect could be imagined. The bottom 
was a mass of mud and slime trending toward the 
outlet just opened, and appeared safe enough and 


334 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

not uncomfortably warm to feet or hands. This 
mud was plastered everywhere, and all about was a 
sulphurous smell that showed it to be strongly 
impregnated with sulphurates of some sort. Elias 
looked in vain for the elk horns and concluded that 
these must have been swept out with other debris in 
the flood following the explosion. Meanwhile Rex 
was looking for something — he hardly knew what— but 
something he felt sure could never have been swept 
out by water. He was ashamed to tell Elias what 
he really hoped to find, yet he wanted to look for it, 
and so said: “Elias, I want to look about in here a 
bit. You run along down the ri TT er. You may find 
those horns. ” 

.“All right,” returned Elias, and he had turned to 
go when there was an eruption right before their 
feet, and all about them water and mud flew up to 
a considerable height. They ran for the outlet at 
the top of their speed and glancing back saw a score 
of bubbles and steam jets, in among which was the 
semblance of a human head and hand. As they 
stood gazing in terror, there was another eruption, 
this time more violent, and to the surface came the 
remainder of the human figure and close beside it 
another, smaller and with long moss or hair stream- 
ing from its head. The falling water washed much 
of the slime from these two figures, and for an 
instant they lay there in full view. Elias grew very 
pale, but Rex flushed as if with pleasure and 
laughed — a trick he had when surprised and over- 
joyed. Hearing him, Elias looked quickly around, 
and seeing him smiling, aye, even laughing at such 


THE CRATER DYNAMITED 


335 


a terrible sight, hesitated not a second, but caught 
him up as he might a bag of meal, and in spite of 
Rex’s struggles, ran swiftly with him out through 
che passage, never setting him down until he had 
him safe at camp. 


CHAPTER XXXVII 


A LUCKY DAY BRINGS BOTH TREASURE AND ELK HORNS- - 
ELIAS DISPLAYS HORSE-SENSE 

As Elias finally set Rex on his feet, the latter 
literally boiled over. Never was there a madder 
little man facing a big one. Rex was not given to 
profanity, but on this occasion he began to give 
expression to some rather strong expletives, when 
the honest giant again took hold of him and began 
soothing him as a mother might a spunky child. 

“Thar! Thar! Good boy! Nice day. Goin’ 
ter storm to-morrow, mebbe. We’ll go out an’ kill 
a b’ar this arternoon, arter I’v cooked some dinner, 
won’t we?” 

“Why, Elias! You confounded fool! Let go o’ 
me! What ails 3^ou? If I was big enough I’d duck 
you into that river out there. Do you know what 
you’re about? What do you mean by packing me 
over here in that style? Do you think I’m a child 
or crazy? I swear, I believe you’re crazy!” 

“Never mind! Never mind! Nobody’s crazy. 
Set still now, an’ I’ll cook the boy some dinner. 
Let’s tell some huntin’ stories. Elias won’t let 
him go in there agin. No he won’t. Rex shall stay 
here, ’long o’ me. Nobody sha’n’t hurt him.” 

Rex saw it all now, and began to laugh. “Elias, 
I verily believe you think my head was turned 
because I was so pleased when those two dead people 

33 6 


A LUCKY DAY BRINGS TREASURE 


337 


came up there. Now, honest Injun, do you think 
I’m crazy?” 

Elias looked silly, and tears came into his great, 
kind eyes. “Why, boyee! I did think so fer a fact. 
But you talk all right now. Why, how could you 
laugh at such a sight as that?” 

“Go on with your dinner, Elias, and I’ll tell you. 
You may not know it, but I’m up here after 
richer game than elk horns, which, by the way, I 
hope we’ll get. I see I’ve got to trust you, and I 
know I can. So I’ll tell you everything if you’ll 
promise to stand by me.” Of course, Elias, seeing 
his mistake, promised, and Rex told him all the long 
story, except the probable size of the treasure. 
That he thought best to keep to himself. When he 
had ended he further said: “And now, Elias, I 
hope to get something out of this for my mother, 
Uncle Festus and myself. If it turns out as well as 
I hope and we find those chests and get them home, 
I’ll give you a thousand dollars for this month’s 
work. ’ ’ 

“No, ye won’t, boyee. I wouldn’t accept of it. 
’Twould be robbin’ ye. I kin see you’ve ben 
workin’ this lead fer two or three year, an’ do } T e 
s’pose jist as ye git to the main deposit I’m a-goin’ 
to hold ye up fer the lion’s share? No, siree! I 
ain’t built so bristles grow on my back. I’ll stan’ 
by ye, an’ when we’re through, ef you pan out as 
good color as ye hope, I want them horns an’ three 
dollars a day — not a durned ounce more. But sure’s 
ye live, boy, I reckoned ye wuz crazy when ye 
grinned an’ ha-ha’ d as ye did in there a while ago. 


338 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


Think of it, will ye! Two fellers standin’ at the 
door o’ hades, which in its bilin’s tosses up two 
victims, and one o’ them fellers turns to t’other an’ 
chuckles as if he’d jest seen a ravishin’ly beootiful 
sight. Did Dante grin under such sarcumstances, 
an’ if he had, wouldn’t his pard ben justified in 
thinkin’ as poor, deceived Othello thought — ‘On 
horror’s head, horrors accumulate’? Wall, I guess 
he would. But we won’t say anythin’ more ’bout 
my mistake. We’ll eat an’ then we’ll go back in 
there. We ain’t got more’n three hours more o’ 
daylight left. ’ ’ 

They managed to eat a pretty good dinner despite 
their excitement, and immediately after it, repaired 
to the crater, where they found things about as they 
had left them. By careful examination they ascer- 
tained within the next twenty-four hours that the 
hot springs were but'three in number, and that each 
spouted at regular intervals. One spring, the 
largest and the one that had frightened them so, 
spouted every ninety-three minutes. The other two 
flowed slowly all the time, but spouted every forty 
minutes or near it, and apparently together. The 
spouting of the larger varied in force and was pre- 
ceded by a convulsion and bubbling. Two of these 
springs, the large one and one of the smaller, were 
close together, and it was probably the spouting of 
the small, followed by the larger, which they first 
saw. Only once after did they ever see the human 
figures which were in the very center of the springs 
and which Rex believed to be the bodies of Andres 
and Isabella. It then looked as if the two were in 


A LUCKY DAY BRINGS TREASURE 


339 


some manner fastened together, and as if some 
heavy weight held them down ; but all this Rex and 
Elias could only conjecture, as they dared not go 
nearer. It was found that from these three springs 
all the water that was in the pit had come, and that 
the remainder of the bottom, which was fairly level, 
was hardening and drying out, or would do so if the 
mud at the entrance to the outlet was kept back so 
as to give the water exit. 

“I kalkerlate,” said Elias, as on the forenoon of the 
second day they were digging around in the hope of 
finding the chests, “that this lake was years in 
formin’. First the mud gethered round that outlet 
there. Then the water slowly riz — probably an 
inch a day er less — all the time runnin’ out that 
passage yonder. Finally it floated them logs we 
found, which mebbe laid on some higher portion o’ 
the little flat, an’ they finally got jammed across. 
That may ’a ben ’fore Julius Caesar’s time, for prob- 
ably the lake wuz jest as we found it when Sealth 
an’ his ancestors first kim up here. They went up 
that trail we dim’ up, drivin’ the victims afore ’em. 
Then they pushed ’em an’ rolled the cliists over in. 
The bodies bein’ lighter’n the chists, went out 
furder. They didn’t, ner couldn’t ’a fell inter the 
big spring thar at first, fer the reason that if they 
had, the meat ’ud ’a ben cooked off their bones an’ 
we wouldn’t seen anythin’ but skeletons. No; they 
laid thar in that water, weights fast to ’em, fer 
mebbe twenty year, mebbe forty, but all the time 
gradually workin’ toward them springs. Durin’ 
that time they petrified. From what I kin see of 


340 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

this bottom, if they’d fell in close to the wall, they’d 
never got inter the springs at all, fer as you kin 
see, the nearest one’s at least twenty-fivfc foot away 
from the wall. But bein’ light, they went out 
furder — prob’bly ten foot furder’n the chists. If 
the chists went out anywhar twenty-five foot from 
that wall, you’ll never find ’em, fur they’re small 
an’ heavy an’ no bilin’ mud ever’d throw ’em up. 
They’re down in the bowels of this mountain 
summers. However, if they was heavy an’ went 
down close to the wall, there’s where they air. I’m 
goin’ up above. I got an idee.” 

He toiled up the trail, Rex following after, and 
soon stood before the rock to which he had fastened 
his rope on the day he swung over after the elk horns. 
It was a peculiarly shaped stone, Rex now noticed. 
He had never looked at it closely before, for it was 
on the side of the crater across from where he had 
made his closest observations. It may have been 
placed in position by Indians, though how Rex could 
not see, for it would weigh at least ten tons. It was 
close to the brink of the crater, in fact, hung over. 
Its inner top surface was slanted down so as to form 
a slide and any object rolled down this slant would 
gain such momentum as to shoot well out, especially 
if light. On the back of this block were two steps,' 
or notches, that might be used as steps. These did 
not appear to have been cut, but to have been 
naturally formed. The first was about two feet 
above the level of the plateau and a foot into the 
rock. In stair parlance, two feet of rise and one of 
tread. The second was nearer three feet of rise 


A LUCKY DAY BRINGS TREASURE 


34i 


and less tread — about eight inches. The third, 
which rose to the top of the rock, was about two 
feet. The rock, which was about seven feet high, 
was some six feet wide on top, and would have been 
twelve backward and forward, but for the sharp 
slant which occupied about eighteen feet of it. 
To illustrate this, Elias went to camp and got all 
the blankets and clothing he could scare up, and of 
these made a round bundle about sixty pounds in 
weight and nearly the size of a human body. He 
bound it round tightly with straps and strings and 
set it rolling. As he had expected, it went well out, 
so far out, in fact, that Rex hastened down to secure 
it, fearful of an eruption of the springs. As he 
was reaching for the bundle Elias shouted a warning 
and sent down a boulder as large as he could lift. 
This struck fifteen or twenty feet inside the other, 
and, climbing down, Elias declared there was where 
he proposed to delve for the chests. Stripping naked 
as the day he was born, and gold-pan in hand, the 
long-haired giant looked odd enough delving in that 
warm muck. The heat of the muck was greater as 
he went down, and if ever a man sweated from every 
pore it was Elias. He found very little to obstruct 
his operations, and was soon down six or eight feet. 
Every few minutes he would pause for a rest and a 
breath of fresh air. At such times he would 
expound his theory about the sacrifices; which was, 
to say the least, good reasoning. 

“Ye see, boyee, them elk horns was throwed off 
that rock up there, an’ owin’ to their prongs er 
somethin’ else, went sidewise an’ ketched on that 


342 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


little scrub-pine ledge up above there. It’s a 
wonder to me that some priest didn’t let some feller 
down to start ’em on, but either because they didn’t 
dare interfere with what had happened or ’cause 
they hadn’t no rope to let a feller down, they let 
’em hang; but you bet when they made this big 
potlatch you say the Spaniard expected, they didn’t 
take no chances. They took good care to send both 
the Spaniards an’ the treasure as near where the 
breath of the Thunderbird bubbled up as they could. 
I know suthin’ about these things, an’ I know they 
have a cur’ous belief about springs an’ pools. They 
won’t drink out of a spring of any size what bubbles 
up from the bottom, even to this day. I’ve seen ’em 
refuse. I see ole Ludlow Jane drive a hull band 
o’ Siwash away from a spring out along shore 
between Whiskey Spit and Port Ludlow one day. 
She declared jest ’cause the spring bubbled up from 
the bottom it had Tamahnawis in it. Now, Seattle 
an’ the rest, they kalkerlated to throw this potlatch 
as near into the mouth of the Thunderbird as they 
could. If the chists was light enough or if the Injuns 
had strength enough, they’re clear out there fifteen or 
twenty foot beyond where I’m diggin’, but I’m 
kalkerlatin’ on their bein’ heavy, and from here in 
to’rds the wall is where I’m goin’ to dig.” 

And he did dig. He went down first some eight 
feet, making an excavation almost like a well. Then 
he began to work out toward the wall, where the 
muck was harder and less salvy. He was bending 
over to work his pan under an unusually large lift, 
when his knee struck some pointed object, and with 


A LUCKY DAY BRINGS TREASURE 


343 


an exclamation of pain he settled back, making a wry 
face. Rex looked to see what it was he had bumped 
against, and saw in the muck the shape of a chest 
corner. Greatly excited, he scrambled in over Elias, 
shoved his hands into the mud, and began feeling 
about. Then he looked up with staring e} T es and a 
very white face, and exclaimed, “Elias, here’s one 
of ’em, sure’s you’re born.’’ Elias forgot all about 
his knee as he delved and wallowed in the mud, 
and an instant later shouted, “Yes! an’ they’s two 
there. I feel another. ’ ’ 

Rex was now even more excited than Elias, and 
forgetting his clothes and the mud, clawed frantically 
about, getting down on his knees and knocking the 
skin and flesh off his fingers and hands in his 
attempt to excavate. Finally he, had one of the 
chests unearthed and rolled out, but he could not lift 
it to save his life. Elias was just putting one out on 
solid ground and he now took this one from Rex and 
placed it beside the first. Then both fell to digging 
again, and within seven feet of the others, only 
nearer the surface, they found a third. Three 
were all they expected to find, but they kept on 
digging until the shadows warned them the after- 
noon was wearing away. The task of carrying 
out the chests fell to Elias, for Rex could not lift 
even one. 

“They probably had some feller with more beef’n 
brains, like me, fer instance, what acted as pack- 
horse fer the Hy as Tyee or Hy as Kill-’em-quick, or 
they’d never got these up into these mountains; an’ 
even with two such fellers, I don’t see how they 


344 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


done it. ” While Elias was bringing out the other 
two chests, Rex cleaned off the first and examined 
it. Beyond three circular headless bolt ends on 
each of two sides and a close shut joint running 
around the chest about one inch below its top, he 
could see no possible opening, and press as best he 
could on these bolt ends he could not budge them. 
The chests were identical in every respect. Each 
was an exact cube with a sixteen-inch face. They 
had no handles, no hinges, no joints aside from the 
one mentioned, and were as nearly smooth as it was 
possible to make them. While Rex was cleaning 
off the last one, Elias sat and pondered, asking a 
question now and then. 

“Do ye know how themkim open, boyee?” 

“No, Elias; I (jon’t. Guess that’s what puzzled 
the Indians.” 

“That’s what I guess, but I got an idee.” 

“What is it?’’ 

“The feller what originally owned themchists had 
a big pair o’ clamps or pinchers, with three points 
on a side, made to fit against them bolt heads. When 
he wanted to open a chist he jest clapped ’em on an’ 
pinched till he shot in the bolts. Them bolts is 
held out by a powerful spring in the cover, an’ on 
the under side o’ the bolts is a latch or projection. 
Them springs keep that latch pushed out under 
a rim runnin’ round inside the upper edge o’ the 
box. I’ll bet ye couldn’t open any o’ them chists 
with a jimmy. Nothin’ but a cole chisel will do it, 
an’ thar ain’t any this side o’ the coast. Fer a fact, 
ef I was goin’ fer a cole chisel, I’d git three er four 


A LUCKY DAY BRINGS TREASURE 


345 


an’ a sledge. Ye’ve got yer treasure, boy, but 
neither you ner I kin pack it, an’ we can’t open 
things up either. ” 

‘Wou’ve got some dynamite left, Elias.” 

“Yes, an’ ye can fool with it if ye want ter, an’ 
perhaps blow yer treasure all over this valley. Do 
ye want to run any risks on $5,000 wuth o’ stuff? I 
don’t. If I was a-goin’ ter do anything, I’d try an’ 
shoot off a corner o’ one of them boxes with a rifle, 
but it’s my judgment ye’d shoot all yer ammuni- 
tion away without doin’ more’n to batter it a 
leetle. I don’t see any other way than ter go 
down to the sound an’ git chisels an’ a sledge. I 
kin make the trip, packin’ only one blanket an’ 
enough grub ter last me one way in three or four 
days, an’ come back in ’bout five. When I come I’ll 
bring help. ” 

“What’ll I do while you’re gone, Elias?” 

“Lay round an’ keep watch o’ things. You’ll 
have plenty o’ grub an’ you kin rest up.” 

“But, Elias, I don’t like to see you start out 
alone. ” 

“Sho! Don’t let that worry ye. I’ve ben out en 
in here more’n once. ’Sides, we got ter hev help 
ter pack this stuff out. ’ ’ 

“Who’ll you bring?” 

“Is yer Uncle Festus stubbed enough fer the 
climb? The snow’ll be down consid’able, an’ he 
won’t hev no great pack, ’cept goin’ back.” 

“Yes; Uncle Festus ’d stand it all right and enjoy 
it too, but we three can never carry one hundred 
pounds or more apiece. You’d better bring two 


346 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


more. Peroux and Perry are good mountaineers, 
and safe men in every way.” 

“All right. I’ll git them. Jest lay down an’ rest 
yerself a bit now, an’ I’ll cook a little an’ git ready 
fer the trip. ’Tain’t more’n four o’clock, an’ I’ll 
have supper in an hour. If I git time ter-morrer, 
I’ll help ye build a log shack here. Might as well 
hev a house ter live in while I’m gone. All I got 
ter do ter-morrer, anyway, is ter cook up some grub. 
I don’t propose ter do any cookin’ this trip.” 

“I’m not so very tired, Elias. If there’s nothing 
I can help you about, I think I’ll go along down the 
river and see if I can find where the elk horns lodged. 
We haven’t hunted for them much since we got on 
track of these chests. ’ ’ 

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Rex started 
down the river, his eyes fixed on every sand bar and 
searching every eddy. He had gone a half-mile or 
more when he was attracted by one of those peculiar 
madrona trees, so often seen in the mountains, and 
called by mountaineers, “checkerberry trees.” 
They shed their bark each spring, commencing near 
the coast as early as February and farther inland 
about March 15th, after which time their ghastly 
yellow limbs, red as blood close to the freshly peel- 
ing bark, stand out, a startling sight on many a 
lonely point or knoll. This one stood on a rocky 
point, where the river swept round to the south, and 
its sweeping limbs almost touched the swift current. 
In fact, two of them did touch it, and swayed back- 
ward and forward — or was that something else? He 
stopped and rubbed his eyes. Were those elk 


A LUCKY DAY BRINGS TREASURE 


347 


horns? “That’s what they are, sure’s you’re born,” 
muttered Rex. “But what monsters! I wouldn’t 
believe my eyes, if I hadn’t heard the story Elias 
tells. No, I should think it some optical delusion. 
Now to get them. ” 

He attempted to wade out in the water, but found 
it too deep. The horns, while sweeping down 
before the flood, had caught their crotch exactly over 
a strong limb where it swept the higher water, and 
now hung down, their tips nearly two feet in the 
swift current. Rex planned a little, and finally 
managed to throw a small rope about them, and 
fetching the ends back tied them to the trunk of the 
tree. Then he climbed up and with his hunting 
knife cut the limb so that the weight of the horns 
broke it off. Having hauled the horns out of the 
water, an easy task, as they swung around against 
the bank, he put his shoulders under them and 
started for camp, the tips trailing along behind like 
the poles of a wickiup when fastened to a cayuse. 
Elias, from the knoll, saw him coming, and a more 
pleased fellow never lived. He ran to meet him, 
capering about like a child, and taking the huge 
antlers, which all the time seemed to Rex to be 
something more than elk horns, the horns of a mam- 
moth at least, bore them to camp with beaming face. 
There they set up the horns, and measured them. 
They measured from one tip to another by way of 
the crown piece sixteen feet eight inches, and being 
rather straight, when set on end, six feet eight and 
one-half inches from the ground to the crotch. 
They would weigh, Rex judged, about seventy-five 


348 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

pounds, and were beautifully polished. They were, 
in fact, much the finest specimens either Rex or 
Elias had ever seen, being about one and a half 
times as large and, though slender, magnificently 
proportioned. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII 


A BOY, A MAN AND A BALD-FACE BEAR BRUIN SUSTAINS 

THE REPUTATION OF HIS TRIBE 

“I think you’d better slip down the valley this 
evenin’ an’ knock over a fawn,” said Elias, as they 
sat eating. ‘‘If I had time, I’d make some pimmikin 
to take with me. That’s the stuff, but I ain’t got 
time. * ’ 

“What’s ‘pimmikin,’ Elias? I’ve heard of that 
stuff, but I don’t believe I know what it is.” 

“No; I don’t believe ye do. Few does. Used ter 
be quite common out in this region when I first kim 
out, but it ain’t used much now, in these days when 
expeditions is started out from cities where ye kin 
buy all sorts o’ condensed fodder. Pimmikin’s made 
this a- way: You take either lean buffalo, deer, elk 
or antelope meat, an’ cut it into thin strips an’ cure 
’em by partially cookin’, dryin’ in the sun or even 
by freezin’ of ’em. The best way is ter put ’em on a 
wooden 'grate before a slow fire. When quite dry, 
take ’em an’ pound ’em inter small pieces or powder 
— the finer the better. Of course, ye kin bale ’em 
right up in the strip, but that’s simply jerked meat. 
That ain’t pimmikin’, an’ ’tain’t noways near as 
good fer var’ous reasons. Well, when ye’ve thor- 
oughly pulverized yer meat, ye wanter make a bag 
fer it. Any hide of a clean animal will do, though 
deer or elk is best. Make a bag of it with the hair 

349 * 


350 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

outside. Take yer pulverized meat an’ mix with it 
purty near as much melted taller or fat as there is 
meat, an’ while it’s all warm, put it inter the bag, 
packin’ all in well, an’ sew it up. When it’s cooled 
an’ hardened it’s ready to store or pack. It’ll keep 
fer years if well made. I’ve eat it up north when 
’twas forty year old, an’ ’twas good. It’ll work or 
ferment if ye make yer bag too big. Never put 
more’n a hundred pound in one bag if ye kin help it. 
A long slim bag’s best. Ye eat it uncooked, an’ 
without salt. Ye kin mix it with flour an’ boil it in 
water an’ hev the best dish in the meat-pie line ye 
ever tasted. Ye kin add berries er dried fruit ter it 
when it’s bilin’ an’ then ye hev what’s called sweet 
pimmikin, which, I tell ye, is good. Pimmikin’s 
great stuff, an’ I don’t know how this country’d 
ever ben discovered without it. A bag o’ it three 
foot long an’ less’n a foot in diameter will keep four 
men a month, an’ they’ll tramp on it better’n any 
grub I know on. It’s old-fashioned, but I don’t 
know any other grub a man kin carry twenty-five 
pound of an’ make it keep him a month. Them 
hardy Scotchmen what work fer the Hudson’s Bay 
Company alius swear by it, an’ I’ve ben told by the 
old-timers that Astor used ter make all his men 
carry from ten to fifteen pound sewed round in their 
buckskin coats, to be used only when everything 
else gin out. It was him that introduced the raisin 
trick inter this northwest, an’ I think now, ef I was 
a-goin’ out a thousand mile inter the Athabasca 
region or any other cold country, I’d hev a rubber 
belt o’ raisins or pimmikin on me. As condensed 



“SO I STARTLED YOU, DID I, OLD CHAP?” 

351 






35 2 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


grub, pimmikin comes first an’ raisins next, in my 
jedgment. ” 

It is needless, perhaps, to add that Elias had 
reference to the well-known food, pemihican, once 
widely used in the northwest. 

It was six o’clock before Rex and Elias finished 
their repast, but, as there were still two hours of 
daylight, Rex strapped on his knife and cartridge 
belt, and, taking his rifle, started down the valley in 
quest of a fawn. He was nearly two miles from 
camp when he secured a yearling, and having hung 
it up and drawn it, was soon on his way toward 
camp. There was about seventy pounds of the 
meat, including the hide, which he used as a pack 
sack, and he calculated that over the smooth grass of 
the valley he could make his way to camp in forty 
minutes. However, he found fast marching even 
under such a comparatively light pack impossible, 
and it was not until 7 130 that he finally rounded the 
last bend in the river and came within a quarter of a 
mile and in plain view of the camp. Over on the 
southwest side, close to the ledge and in the fringe 
of forest, it had been dark some time, and now that 
darkness was beginning to settle down over all the 
valley, except on the higher portions of the north- 
east side, he was thinking of crossing the river, in 
order to gain this higher ground where the light was 
stronger. As he stumbled along through the semi- 
darkness he could not help noting how much 
brighter it was some three hundred yards east, and 
on the extreme eastern height the sun still shone. 
In fact, he could see a pair of mountain black bear 


A BOY, A MAN AND A BALD-FACE BEAR 353 

coming down from the northeastern ridge for a feed, 
and as they stood for an instant on the height to 
survey with wondering eyes Elias’ camp fire, their 
sleek sides shone in the rays of the setting sun like 
a glass bottle. He looked in vain for a shallow 
crossing. There was none to be found until he 
came nearly opposite the camp. He regretted now 
that he had not crossed below, especially as he now 
saw four bears feeding in the swales on the opposite 
side, a half-mile or more away, where they were so 
busily nosing about after grass roots, skunk cab- 
bage, etc., he was sure he could easily steal upon 
them. 

Immediately ahead of him was a narrow but very 
soft lateral swale — a swale starting up behind the 
fringe of forest, close to the great snow-banks along 
the western ledge. Had he been without a burden 
he might have crossed easily down near the river, 
but under the circumstances, it was necessary to 
make a detour. It was very gloomy up in the fringe 
of forest where he proposed crossing, and so deep 
and thick were the moss and grass growth that he 
made no sound as he stepped forward. He finally 
reached a spot where he could cross this swale, and 
was making his way up its bottom, to avoid the 
slight bluff on the other side,, when, as he rounded 
a small, thick clump of spruce, which pushed out 
from among the larger growth, he was startled 
nearly out of his wits by a hoarse, deep growl not 
twenty yards from him. At the same moment, 
from the sward, what he had at first supposed to be 
a long, low clump of brush reared up on end and 


354 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


stood there eight or ten feet high. Dark as it was 
(Rex’s eyesight seemed to be phenomenally strong 
just then), he saw that he was confronted by a bear, 
the largest he had ever seen, either in captivity or 
elsewhere. Coming up the slope without a noise, 
and the thick spruce growth having shut off all 
scent, he had been enabled to walk up and take this 
giant of the bear species completely by surprise. 

During the thirty seconds they stood there facing 
each other, Rex noted the ghastly white mask of the 
animal, and from what he had heard knew that he 
was now facing that most dreaded of all the bear 
kind, a bald-face, and from its size, he judged it to 
be a male. The bear had stood motionless, but from 
the savage growl he kept rolling up from deep down 
in his interior, Rex knew that the animal had been 
scared enough to render him fighting mad, and he 
felt that he was in for it and could not escape with- 
out a scrimmage. From the bear’s actions he felt 
certain that a movement toward retreat would be 
the signal for a charge. In the face of this fearful 
danger he was, to his own surprise, as cool as he 
ever was in his life, and it was with a perfectly 
steady voice that he began bantering the bear in the 
hope of throwing him off his guard, perhaps driving 
him away. 

“And so I startled you, did I, old chap? Well, 
you’ve no need to get so mad about it. Now watch 
me slide out of this pack — jumped a little then, 
didn’t you? Growl if you want to, but keep your 
distance. Just you come toward me on those 'hind 
legs and I’ll drill you one for luck, if it’s the last 


A BOY, A MAN AND A BALD-FACE BEAR 355 

thing I ever do. Head up there! Face front! 
Don’t you come down on all fours at me, or I’ll put 
a ball through the whole length of you. That’s 
right! Keep quiet now! I’m going to make more 
noise.” Rex had been gradually raising his voice, 
and now he called out loud enough for Elias at the 
camp, less than five hundred yards away, to hear: 
“Elias! Oh, Elias! Come quick, and bring the gun !” 

At this the bear came down on all fours, and 
thinking him about to charge, Rex was on the point 
of shooting, when the bear seemed to think better 
of it, and backed off a few feet, exposing the side of 
his great head. Rex stood still a. full minute, and then 
did a very foolish thing. The temptation was too 
strong, and he risked a shot at the butt of the bear’s 
ear. Even as he pulled the trigger he knew that he 
had shot too high, but he saw the bear go down, and 
stooping low, to avoid his own smoke, he ran for a 
tree, thirty feet or more away, throwing out his shell 
as he did so. As he reached the tree, he turned to 
see the bear charging straight at him, and with 
every hair erect. He dodged around the tree, and 
before the bear could check his rush and make a 
turn, the boy caught him with a second shot some- 
where in the lower jaw and back toward the throat. 
Rex was small, very agile and perfectly cool, else he 
must at this instant have been killed, for, although 
the bear went down again, he rolled to the very spot 
where Rex had stood, and with blows of paws and 
tearing of teeth made roots and grass fly in all direc- 
tions. Meanwhile, Rex was running backward and, 
seeing an opportunity, shot again. Just as he pulled 


3 5 6 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

the trigger his foot caught in the crotch of a low 
bush, and he went down, his bullet flying high and 
doing the bear no harm. Half stunned by his heavy 
fall, he lay motionless for a second or two, a delay 
which proved well nigh fatal to him. He came to 
his senses just in time to see the bear rushing upon 
him, blood dripping from its open jaws. Hardly 
knowing what he did, the boy rose partly up, and 
even as he felt the hot breath of the big brute blow- 
ing in his face, jammed his rifle barrel with all his 
strength between the open jaws. As the weapon 
was wrested from him, he pulled the trigger again, 
but the gun failed to go off. Another gun did go 
off, however, for Elias was now close at hand, and, 
yelling like a Comanche Indian, he poured a big 
charge of heavy buckshot into the side of the bear’s 
neck at short range. Although the creature went 
down like a log, Elias gave him the other barrel in 
the region of the heart, and backing off threw his 
shells and slipped two more in their places. 

“Don’t tear that bear hide any more; he’s got 
enough,’’ called out Rex, and then he seemed going 
off into a faint, for the semi-dafkness now became 
blackness, with sparks of fire flashing through it. 
However, he did not faint, and by the time Elias got 
around to him was on his hands and knees, endeavor- 
ing to rise. “Where’s my gun, Elias? Did he 
spoil it?’’ 

“No, he didn’t spoil it. He kim near spoilin’ you, 
though. Hello! Did ye hear that splash?’ 

“Yes, I did, Elias, and I believe there was another 
bear in here with this one.’’ 


A BOY, A MAN AND A BALD-FACE BEAR 357 


“Nonsense! Thar wan’t a pair on ’em, or she’d 
’a joined in the fight.” 

“Yes, there was. I saw her, or some object I took 
to be a bear, sneaking around behind me just before 
I fell. Come on!” And he ran for the river. “See 
how wet it is on the gravel there. She went out 
right below the camp. There! See her? There she 
goes ; right through that glade up back of the camp. ’ ’ 

Elias looked just in time to see a large animal rush 
across the opening and disappear. Plunging into 
the river, which was here shallow, he went across, 
examined the ground and called out, “By jing! 
you’re right! She’s a whale, too, judgin’ from her 
track, but we don’t wanter foller her to-night.” As 
he came back he continued : ‘ ‘ Say, boy ! Do you 
know what that is you’ve kilt?” 

“What it was you killed, you’d better say, Mr. 
Elias. It was your old shotgun that did the 
business. I’d been all chewed up but for you.” 

Elias chuckled. “No, you’re wrong. He might 
’a killed you but for me; but he’d ’a died sure, fer 
you got him that second shot through the juglar. 
That first shot went out the top of his head an’ any 
other animal but this feller would ’a kerflummuxed. 
However, it’s'jest as you say. He’d ’a chawed an’ 
clawed an’ bit the gizzard outen ye ’fore he’d a 
shuffled off, if I hadn’t bio wed a cat hole inter his 
heart case. But say! What ever put it inter yer 
head to holler to me? I never knowed a youngster 
ner nobody else ter do that afore. If ye hadn’t, 
though, you’d ’a ben a goner, fer I didn’t git here a 
millionth of a second too soon. ” 


358 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


Rex laughed. “I don’t know what made me do 
it, Elias, neither do I know what made me talk to 
the bear, but I did,” and he proceeded to tell Elias 
what he had said. ‘‘But, Elias, what made him 
attack me? I hadn’t hurt him. Was it because I 
scared him?” 

‘‘That was it, boyee. I think if ve’d ’a backed 
slowly off even then he’d ’a let ye go; but ye stood 
yer ground, an’ he knew from the way ye acted that 
ye’d drill him if he turned tail an’ run. Bears 
know a heap an’ they think quick.” 

The two now proceeded to examine the bear by 
the light of a torch, which Elias improvised from 
some cedar splinters, and as they did so, Elias 
muttered: ‘‘If it don’t beat the dickens. Here he 
is agin. Luck! Jest luck! Men in this country 
hunt all their lives an’ never git a crack at anything 
like this, yet this little rooster comes up here an’ 
’fore his feet gits toughened, kills the biggest 
cougar ’long shore, an’ now he’s laid out a ball-face.” 

‘‘What’s that you’re saying, Elias? I didn’t hear.” 

‘‘Oh, nothin’ much. I was jest thinkin’ out loud. 
But say* ye know we got to git that hide outen these 
hills if we don’t git anythin’ else, fer they’s lots an’ 
lots o’ people what don’t believe they’s any ball-face 
in here. Fer a fact, it’s reg’lar talk over in Seattle. 
I guess some fellers ’ll be bug-eyed when they see 
this. Ain’t he a whale? He’ll go one thousand 
four hundred sure. That hide, if ’twas mine, 
couldn’t be bought. See that mouth an’ them teeth. 
Thunder! How purty he is!” 

“Yes; but, Elias, you killed him.” 


A BOY, A MAN AND A BALD-FACE BEAR 359 


“The Old Boy I did! Say, didn’t I tell ye he’d ’a 
died from that second or third shot o’ yourn? Yer 
first shot might ’a done it in time. Yer second shot 
struck the very seat o’ life if it’d ben a hoss or any 
other ordinary critter. I only hurried matters; so 
don’t let me hear any more o’ that, but jest take 
hold an’ help skin this feller. You’re gittin’ lazy as 
well as contrary. You’ll be claimin’ I found them 
chists yet, an’ wantin’ me to share with ye.’’ Thus 
Elias ran on, working like a good fellow all the time, 
and as Rex was not as handy and, in fact, in the way, 
he decided to busy himself starting a fire, both for 
warmth and light. It was as much as both could 
do to roll the great carcass about so as to get the 
hide off it, and it was not until nine o’clock that, 
with the head and hide on a stretcher between them, 
they toiled up to camp. Elias could have carried it 
alone had they taken time to bind it up with cords, 
buf in its present shape it was so slippery and 
heavy no man could gather it up in his arms. As 
they were in haste and had but a short distance to 
go, they made a sort of stretcher, piled up the skull 
and hide on it, and thus carried this splendid trophy 
to camp. Then they felt the need of another supper. 
This eaten, they replenished the fire and beneath 
the wonderfully bright stars lay down to sleep. 


CHAPTER XXXIX 


ELIAS DEPARTS AND REX IS HUNTED BY WOLVES 

A HAIR-RAISING EXPERIENCE 

At a very early hour Elias awoke Rex and bade 
him prepare breakfast, while he felled some trees to 
give him an appetite, as he claimed. Going to a 
clump of cedar averaging about ten inches in 
diameter, he soon felled a dozen and on his return 
to camp found breakfast ready. Immediately after 
breakfast he began cutting the trees into six and 
eight foot lengths, selecting only such as were seven 
inches in diameter at the top. Elias was able to 
carry any of these logs to camp on his shoulder, but 
Rex found few he could lift. By nine o’clock the 
logs were all on the ground and then the notching 
and placing commenced, the giant and his helper 
pushing this work forward with all possible speed. 
At noon the pen was three feet high and a door-post 
had been set two feet from the corner, into which 
logs six feet in length were roughly mortised. 
Against the corner opposite the door-post was set a 
spruce with projecting limbs which were put through 
under each log as it was laid on, and brought back 
over on top to be held by the next above. This 
spruce made a good door- jamb. At three o’clock 
the walls of the house were up about six feet "and 
Elias had felled a cedar two feet six inches through 
for shakes. Shakes, or what would be called 

360 . 


REX IS HUNTED BY WOLVES 


361 


enormous unshaven shingles in the east, are very 
common in the Puget Sound region, where entire 
houses and barns are built out of them. So straight 
of grain is the cedar and so easily split that shakes 
almost equal to the best of boards and of any thick- 
ness desired are readily obtained. For instance, for 
the roof Elias split them one-half inch thick and 
almost as smooth as if planed. The center shake, 
which was eight inches thick to avoid the rotten 
heart so sure to be found in cedars of any size, was 
two feet six inches in width, and being split down to 
the proper size and set up on end against the jamb 
mentioned, made an excellent door. The roofing 
of this cabin or shack was finished just before dark, 
and, as Elias declared, “it would shed water till the 
cows kim home.” 

The cabin had been built against the ledge, and a 
hollow alder log set some four feet above the fire on 
the edge of the ledge made an excellent chimney, 
and owing to the coal-like character of their fir-bark 
fuel, was hardly liable to catch fire. Rex felt more 
secure in such a camp and was thankful enough that 
it was completed, when on the following morning 
Elias left him for his journey to. the coast. He sat 
in the doorway in the gray light of the early morning 
and watched the stalwart fellow, as without other 
pack than a quantity of cooked meat, some cooked 
beans in a tin can, some very strong coffee in a bot- 
tle, some camp bread and a quantity of flour mixed 
with baking powder, all wrapped in his blanket, he 
made his way up the trail to the pass leading from 
the valley. On rea'ching the sky-line, Elias turned, 





REX IS HUNTED BY WOLVES 


363 


looked long and earnestly back at the cabin, and 
then, with a wave of his long arm, shouldered his 
big gun, took a step or two, disappeared and Rex 
was alone. 

How still it seemed! The sun had not yet come 
up, but was tingeing the tops of the tallest peaks 
round about with a roseate hue. Away down the 
valley a small herd of elk, just coming out of the 
woods, huddled and gazed curiously at the smoke 
curling up from the rude chimney on the knoll. In 
two swales or runs on the side of the mountains first 
touched by the sun were bear — two in one and one in 
another — all busy digging and picking their morning 
feed. A meat bird or two, that pest of the moun- 
tains, fluttered in through the open doorway and 
boldly picked at the remains of the morning meal. 

One of these birds gravely selected a case-knife 
and started out of the door with it, but dropped 
it, dodged, and flew perhaps fifteen inches as Rex 
shied a stone at it. Then it stopped, looked at him 
with first one beady eye and then with the other, 
and as it rolled its head, chirped. Rex knocked it 
off its feet with a piece of bark, and as it fluttered 
away, looking back as if surprised, he sat and 
watched the daylight creep into the lower and darker 
portions of the valley’s solitude. With the sun came 
up a slight wind which moaned dismally about the 
crags and peaks above. 

“I wonder if I shall ever get out of here alive,” 
thought the boy, a feeling of such loneliness as he 
had not anticipated oppressing him. ‘‘Well, this 
won’t do. I’ve got to occupy myself in some way,” 


364 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


he remarked aloud, and started at the sound of his 
own voice. “Great Scott! But isn’t it lonely! I 
wonder how a man can strike out here alone and 
live for months as such fellows as Elias do?” 

His first task was to put things in order about the 
camp and wash some beans to cook for his dinner. 
It generally took five hours to cook beans up there, 
and as he wished to eat at noon, it was necessary to 
commence preparations now. Next he took up his 
rifle and the axe Elias had left, and started toward 
the bear swale across the river to cut spruce brush 
for the bed which they had not had time to make 
the day before. While thus engaged, a herd of 
seventy-five or eighty elk came into the valley by 
the pass through which Elias had departed, and in 
an orderly manner marched down toward the south- 
east. About two hundred yards opposite the camp 
they paused and stared at this strange structure, the 
like of which they had never seen before. In all 
probability none of them had ever seen a human 
being, unless they had happened to see Elias as he 
went out. As they stood still gazing curiously, Rex 
wished most heartily for a kodak that he might pre- 
serve this remarkable sight for the inspection of his 
friends, who, living in cities, were inclined to the 
belief that there is no big game left in the United 
States. 

All day Rex worked about the cabin or in its 
vicinity, and' thus passed the hours. Elia's* had 
stretched the bear hide, rubbed it with salt and 
alum, and in the warm sun and dry air it was drying 
fast. Rex spent much time fleshing this. As the 


REX IS HUNTED BY WOLVES 


365 


daylight began to fade outside, he put up his door, 
pinned it fast, and throwing a quantity of bark on 
the fire, sat down in the light it afforded to read a 
book Elias had left. The light was poor, but he 
managed to read until sleepy, and then, rolling up 
in his blankets, slept soundly until morning on the 
fresh spruce bed. During that day he made several 
torches for evening use, but did not go far from 
camp. He shot a grouse just in the edge of the 
woods, where it had been hooting all the morning. 
It was the first brown grouse he had seen since com- 
ing into the mountains, and was a cock of the largest 
size. These fine birds are to the pheasant or par- 
tridge tribe what the turkey is to the fowl tribe. 
That is to say, they are very much larger than 
pheasants generally. The males have warts on the 
neck similar to those on the neck of the turkey 
cock, and the meat is of the choicest flavor imagi- 
nable. In the higher mountains of the 01}-mpic 
peninsula they are generally pure white, and are in 
many respects similar to the ptarmigan of the 
Arctic regions, with which they are popularly con- 
founded. Rex made a stew of this fellow, cooking 
him slowly about three hours, and about forty 
minutes before he judged him done, he put in a tea- 
cupful of rice. This, becoming flavored by the 
meat, was most delicious, and as he ate his fill and 
lay back sighing with satisfaction, he only wished 
Elias had been there to enjoy the feast with him. 

Thus the days dragged along until four had 
elapsed since Elias’ departure, and Rex retired to 
rest that fourth night resolved to so far break his 


3 66 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


promise as to go out for a deer or young elk on the 
following morning. After the bear-killing episode 
Elias had made him promise that he would not go 
out for big game while he was away, and this 
promise he had kept until his desire for fresh veni- 
son caused him to reason that Elias surely could 
have no objections to his going out a little distance 
for a deer or young elk. 

“If I meet any bear I’ll walk right along and not 
molest them, ’’ he thought. He had determined to 
start in the early morning, as at that hour the deer 
were more active; so just as the eastern sky began 
to lighten, he crept down the valley toward a herd 
of what he believed to be black-tailed deer. He 
had gone to all this trouble to satisfy his sportsman- 
like instinct and not because it was necessary. He 
well knew that he might have shot one from his 
cabin door during the day as they passed along, but 
he preferred to stalk them. It seemed more like 
hunting. 

By the time it was broad daylight he had gone more 
than a mile from camp, and was within two hundred 
yards of his game, stealing forward guardedly, every 
nerve tingling with excitement. Suddenly, without 
warning, the whole herd stampeded toward the 
pass, were up the slope and over it before Rex 
could account for their strange behavior. 

“That’s queer!’’ he muttered. “Wonder what 
frightened ’em so?’’ As he thus soliloquized, a 
long-drawn, shrill cry arose from the western divide, 
suggesting the sound of a tug whistle. “Can’t be 
possible,” he mused. “Puget Sound is fifty miles 


REX IS HUNTED BY WOLVES 367 

or more due east as the eagle flies, the Pacific is 
nearly as far west, while the straits are eighty miles 
north. And yet” — “ W00-0-00 !” came again the 
long-drawn note. He paused and listened, but not 
a sound now came to his ears, except the rush of 
the waters through the valley and the moan of the 
wind about the crags so far above. • 

“It’s queer how these sounds are swept about 
through these passes by the winds. Now, who 
would believe I could hear a steamer whistle this dis- 
tance inland? Why, I must be in the very center of 
this Olympic Peninsula, and this valley is shut in by 
high mountains at that; yet that sound came as 

clear and distinct as Hello! There it goes 

again! By thunder! That’s no steamer whistle! 
That’s a chorus of big wolves. I’ve heard wolves 
before, but I never heard so heavy a chorus as that. 
Great Scott! They’re coming through this valley!” 
As he thus spoke half under his breath, there was a 
sharp “wow-ow!” on one ridge, a shriller yell from 
the opposite ridge and answering calls from all along 
down the valley. Thrice were these sharp calls 
repeated and answered, while at the same time, 
from under the cloud banks the morning breezes 
were rolling up, came sounds of falling gravel, slate 
and rocks. As the last note of the third call died 
away, to the left sounded a hoarser, more powerful 
yell. In truth it was a howl of such volume and so 
resonant that a Mount JEtna lion might well have 
listened with envy. As it rolled up, it was joined 
by a score of imitators, some fairly rivaling it, and 
the grand chorus was one that any novice would be 


3 68 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


very apt to set down as the hoarse note of a distant 
steamboat whistle. It had hardly died away when 
the yelping commenced again, this time much nearer. 
A down the mountain sides and over the ledges, 
slate, stone and gravel were everywhere rattling, 
showing that wolves were coming from all directions 
and that in haste ; and when the next grand chorus 
was raised it was so unearthly, so blood-curdling 
and so close by that Rex felt a sensation he had 
never before experienced — the cold chills were rush- 
ing upward just back of his ears, and it seemed as if 
his hair stood straight out behind, if not upward. 

There was not a small tree within a half-mile. 
There was not, in fact, a tree of any kind within 
five hundred yards. The nearest trees were too 
large to climb even if he had dared make for the 
edge of that gloomy wood. He stood irresolute, 
heartily wishing himself back in his snug camp. 
But the yells were from that direction too, and he 
knew that danger layup the valley. He must stand 
his ground and shoot fast. It was the only way to 
check them if they attacked him. Perhaps they 
would not. In this hope he found short solace, 
however, for even as he entertained it two huge black 
fellows, larger than any St. Bernard or mastiff he 
had ever seen, only more lithe and slim, bounded 
out from the deep shadow of the woods to the 
northeast and came across the green grass straight 
toward him. How they did come! It seemed' as if 
they were running a race and he the goal. They 
came on until he could see their flapping red 
tongues, the gleam of their cruel white teeth, the 


REX IS HUNTED BY WOLVES 369 

flash of their great eyes, when whisk! and with a 
turn that seemed to fairly snap their tails, they 
whirled and ran for the shadow of the woods again. 
These were followed by three more that came yet 
nearer. All that had come forward were black, 
but now he noticed some half-a-dozen gray fellows 
squatted along the edge of the woods. For an 
instant it had been comparatively quiet, but now 
came the “wow-ow! wow-ow!” again, and then the 
hair-raising chorus in which all seemed to join; 
those on the edge of the forest elevating their noses 
to the sky and howling until their entire bodies, even 
at that distance, could be seen to quiver. 

“There may not be more than fifty of them, but 
judging from the racket there ought to be a 
million,” thought Rex. He passed his finger along 
his cartridge belt and counted forty-three of his 40.82 
cartridges. “These with nine in my gun make 
fifty-two,” he muttered. “Gentlemen, if you come 
nearer I shall open up and I think I can pump a 
few of you into wolf-heaven before you reach me.” 
It now seemed apparent that a large pack had set 
out on a hunt for deer or elk, moving in company 
as they generally do ; but the deer, hearing them, 
had fled the valley, and the wolves, smelling other 
live prey and being gathered in number sufficient to 
render them unusually bold, had surrounded Rex. 
He now remembered to have heard Elias tell how 
these huge wild dogs would surround a mountain val- 
ley, by howls frighten the deer or elk into the open 
center, and then descending, attack, slaughter and 
feast upon them. These had been their tactics 


37 ° 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


this morning, but the deer escaping, the boy himself 
was left to face the unwelcome visitors. All this 
passed through his mind swift as thought. Mean- 
while the wolves were making sallies or howling in 
chorus, and each sally was nearer their intended 
victim. 

At this instant, coming directly at him, were a 
pair of large blacks and a slim gray of larger frame 
than any he had yet seen. They game to within 
seventy-five yards, Rex with tightly gripped gun, 
standing like a statue, when — whisk ! and they were 
about again, racing to the cover of the woods. Rex 
was ever a quick rifle-shot, as many bird-hunters 
are, and now, every faculty inspired by desperation, 
he drew up, took a quick sight and fired. The 
gray was hit in the hips and forged ahead # of his 
mates, rolling over and over like a coiled clock- 
spring. His black companions running beside him 
looked over their shoulders, uttered a peculiar, 
wolfish cry, and made straight at him. They had 
smelled his blood and were bent on cannibalism. 
They reached him and pounced upon him, but had 
hardly torn the first mouthful of hairy hide, when 
out from the woods all along came the entire pack 
like a swarm of flies, their object the three wolves 
struggling on the green sward one hundred and 
twenty-five yards distant. To say that Rex was 
excited would be to draw it mildly. He was fairly 
terrified. Scarcely knowing what he did, he purhped 
his remaining eight shots into the advancing pack 
in as many seconds, and, with frantic haste, shoved 
nine more cartridges into the hot gun. As the 


REX IS HUNTED BY WOLVES 371 

smoke cleared away an awful sight presented itself 
and he stood spellbound, watching it with a terrible 
fascination. His shots had wounded or killed a 
half-dozen wolves at least, and these were now being 
devoured by the remaining two hundred or more of 
their fellows. The din of snarls, yells, gnashing, 
snapping teeth and tearing flesh and sinew was 
something -awful, but it was over within five 
minutes, and as swiftly as they had come, only 
more quietly, the pack sneaked back to the forest, 
and under its cover away up the valley. 

Trembling and shivering as with an ague chill, 
Rex finally gathered courage to go over to the scene 
of the slaughter. A paw or an ear here and there, 
bunches of hair, both black and gray, a section of 
vertebrae, blood and viscera smeared over all the 
grass — these were the sights he beheld, and sick 
with horror he started on a run toward his camp. 
A cup of coffee restored him somewhat, but he did 
not for hours recover his nerve; and that night 
awoke at intervals with a start to fall again into 
troubled slumber. He did not care to go out hunt- 
ing again, and for forty-eight hours not a deer 
appeared in the valley. The third morning on 
arising, however, he saw a herd working down the 
valley, and as they filed past his cabin door he shot 
a yearling. Some of this meat he ate; but the 
greater portion he used up in an attempt to make 
Elias’ “pimmikin.” He had a large quantity of fat 
on hand which he had secured some time before 
Elias left from two “whistling pigs” shot near the 
crater. As these are very peculiar animals, rarely 


372 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


found anywhere outside the Olympic region, a 
description of them may not be out of place. 

Properly speaking, a “whistling pig” is not a pig 
but a marmot of the mountains. Ranging in weight 
from twelve to sixty pounds, they are found only 
above the snow-line and never among trees. They 
have a pointed nose like a rat and a head much like 
a woodchuck. * The teeth are of the rodentia order. 
At all ages and sizes they are very fat, their rotund 
bellies actually dragging on the ground as they 
waddle about on their short legs. Grayish-white in 
color, very keen of eye and constantly on the alert, 
they are rarely seen by the mountain-climber until 
heard. He is toiling up, perhaps to gain an elevated 
position from which to shoot at a herd of elk, when 
from just above a snow-bank is a quick movement, 
and clear and shrill sounds the whistle of these 
creatures. It is an ear-piercing note, and always 
heeded by the elk as a warning that a foe is near. 
After the elk has galloped away, the hunter, with 
more or loss profanity, crawls up nearer the holes 
of this colony, and lies down in the snow. Per- 
haps he lies there an hour; perhaps but five minutes, 
when out of a hole in the snow waddles the whistler 
and looks about. The rifle cracks and he tumbles 
over, for he is easy to kill. His flesh is tasteless and 
as good as lard, for he seems two-thirds fat. With 
some of this Rex mixed his pounded deer-meat, and 
had some prime pemmican as a result. He had just 
finished bagging it in deer skin and had sat down to 
rest from his labors, when from the top of the ridge 
over which Elias had disappeared nine days before a 


REX IS HUNTED BY WOLVES 


373 


report sounded, and almost immediately four men 
stood in view, waving arms in which were guns. 
Rex, forgetting even his rifle, ran rapidly across the 
valley, shouting at every other jump. Elias was 
ahead, and he picked the boy clear from the ground 
as he embraced him. The reception of moist-eyed 
Uncle Festus and smiling Peroux and Perry was 
scarcely less fervent, and soon all were seated in 
the crowded little cabin, eating Rex’s “sweet 
pimmikin” and drinking his coffee. 


* 


CHAPTER XL 


AND NOW FOR THE COAST A TRIP THAT TRIES MEN’S 

SOULS 

“I brought the cole chisels, ” mumbled Elias, with 
his mouth full. 

“Yes; tell me more about mother,” was Rex’s 
reply as for the fourth or fifth time some member 
of the party was obliged to tell the eager lad how 
Mrs. Wayland had first become nearly frantic when 
Elias appeared without Rex; had later recovered 
her composure and listened with white face to the 
story of the recovery of the treasure ; and had still 
later wept to think of her boy alone in the moun- 
tains. 

“I tell ye,” wound up Elias, impressively, “that 
little woman is a mother wuth havin’. She’s glad 
to think we found what we went after, but she’d 
sooner lose it all than to know that this boy o’ hern 
is to lose an inch squar’ o’ his precious hide or a 
meal o’ vittles. Why, she made me promise the 
last thing that I’d see he was covered up warm 
nights an’ didn’t git his feet wet cornin’ home,” 
and Elias laughed at her simplicity. Then there 
was a general laugh, at which Rex for an instant 
looked shamefaced, but swift as the fleeting clouds 
above this passed, and he bravely declared : 

“That’s all right, gentlemen. There’s where I’m 
in luck. The only regret I have for this trip is the 

374 


AND NOW FOR THE COAST 


375 


pain and anxiety my absence has caused that simple- 
minded little mother of mine. If we get this treasure 
out, as I’m certain we shall, she will never have to 
yield the first place, so far as my affections and her 
worldly comforts are concerned, to any living woman. 
If good living and loving care can make a woman 
happy, she shall have them.” 

“Never take any great thought ’bout the good 
livin’, my boy,” said Uncle Festus, gravely. “I 
don’t know much about wimmin, but I know jest 
enough to know that if them they love do their best 
an’ show ’em that they love an’ value ’em, they kin 
stand ’most any hardship an’ be happy as the day is 
long. Ain’t I seen that delikit little woomern a- 
bucklin’ to it ’round camp, hustlin’, contrivin’, an’ 
usin’ every endeavor ter make a good showin’ so’t 
I’d think her boy was aimin’ all I paid him? She’s 
jest like all good wimmen, only more so. She lives 
an’ her sun rises an’ sets in her boy. I bet she was 
jest as good to her man when she had him. It’s 
partly her nater, and partly the trainin’ she’s gin 
herself. You fellers think you’ve done a heroic 
thing cornin’ up in here, an’ so ye hev, but ye ain’t 
strained yer narvous anatomy half as much as that 
little woomern did when she bid her boy good-by 
and settled down to be brave while he was gone. 
There she’s ben, day after day, cheerful as she 
could be under the sarcumstances, an’ a durn sight 
churfeller ’n what any one o’ us fellers ’ud ’a ben. 
One night I heerd her in her room a-prayin’. The 
subjec’s too sacred ter be talked about by me. I 
dunno’s I’ve any call to tell on it, but I went out 



376 



AND NOW FOR THE COAST 


377 


on the dock an’ set there an’ looked over at these 
yere mountains, layin’ all broken, an’ cruel, an’ 
cold in the moonlight, an’ I kicked myself fer lettin’ 
ye go. Yes I did, an’ if ye hadn’t ’a come soon, ye’d 
’a seen one ole feller up in here after ye. I had a 
mother once, an’ I didn’t vally her as I’d orter; 
though she was of a leetle sharper mettle an’ 
coarser grain than this little woomern ; but from 
where she is to-night she knows I’m sorry I wasn’t 
a better son, an’ that I’ll never miss the chance o’ 
urgin’ other boys to do better’n what I did.” 

This homily had its influence on Uncle Festus’ 
hearers, and for a time all sat in sober thought. 
The idea then and there came to Rex that he had 
much to thank God for. Chiefest of all was his 
mother and her love. Next, his probable power to 
make her happy, and he resolved anew to do all in 
that direction that lay in his power. His thoughts 
now naturally drifted to the treasure, and he arose 
from his meal to ask Elias for the chisels. These 
were produced and so was a sledge-hammer, and 
with Rex holding the chisel and Elias swinging the 
sledge, the work of opening the nearest chest was 
commenced. 

The brass was very hard and the work of cutting 
off the first corner was slow and tedious. The chisel 
had been started about four inches down from the 
top and the aim was to work off a corner about four 
inches in from the point all round ; but so tough were 
the bands of brass and iron underneath and such was 
the thickness of the chest, it seemed as if the hole 
would be much smaller. At last the chisel had been 


378 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


forced in deep enough on one side to slip through a 
little and something soft was touched. 

“It’s soft,” said Elias, looking up with big, round 
eyes as he worked the chisel, “but all the same it’s 
hard — harder than a sack o’ flour would be, any- 
way. ’ ’ 

“ Probably a bag o’ dust,” remarked Uncle Festus. 

Elias commenced cutting again. Soon he had the 
chisel so set that he could drive it straight against 
the edge of the turned up corner and now, all excite- 
ment, he swung his sledge mightily, soon had the 
corner cut clear off, and picking up the chest shook 
it, when out dropped a small elk-skin bag of dust 
which was followed by several bricks of pure gold, 
about as long as a man’s finger and three-fourths of 
an inch square. These continued to rattle out until 
there were nearly two hundred of them on the 
ground, as well as several small sacks of dust. Some 
of these sacks contained small nuggets as well as 
dust. One of these bags finally stuck in the opening 
in the corner, and being larger than the rest, would 
not drop out. “No use,” grunted Elias after a pro- 
longed shake. “Got to cut the led off’n that chist. ” 
This he soon did by putting the chisel to the edge 
of a thin section and driving it around. It was then 
ascertained that Elias’ conjecture regarding the 
inside bars and springs was correct. A pa'ir of 
pinchers such as he mentioned would have opened 
the chest by the unaided effort of any strong man; 
yet this simple device had never occurred to the 
savages, who would not have known enough to make 
the pinchers had they been aware of their use. It 


AND NOW FOR THE COAST 379 

would seem that the pair used by Perez went to the 
bottom with the wreck. 

All the party would have liked to preserve the 
chests, and Elias and Rex were inclined to wait 
until a man could go to the coast with measurements 
and have a pair of pinchers or clamps made, but 
Uncle Festus vetoed this scheme on the spot, say- 
ing: “Boys, we’ve had enough climbin’ back an’ 
forth over these cliffs an’ wallerin’ through this 
slidin’ snow. Napoleon’s crossin’ of the Spliigen, 
such as Sanders’ Fourth Reader uster tell about, 
ain’t in it. What’s an old brass chist or two? Cut 
them leds off! Git outen here! Who knows what 
may foller us up here? We may have the hull 
Siwash gang round our ears now. Suppose they 
knew yer doin’ s up here? There ’d be murder afoot, 
I tell ye, an’ a claim afore Governor Rogers an’ 
President McKinley an’ the Lord only knows who 
else. Ye’d find white men back of ’em, too. The 
best way is to git this treasure outen these boxes an’ 
pack it home. Destroy the original packages, too, 
or at least bury ’em, an’ be durn quick about it.’’ 

This sensible advice was heeded, and the lids of 
the other chests were soon off and their contents 
added to the heap in the corner of the cabin. There 
were five hundred and twenty-nine of the bars or 
pigs of gold, and sixty- three much larger pigs of 
silver of the same shape. It was calculated that the 
gold bars would weigh about five ounces each, and 
were worth not less than $85 apiece. The silver 
bars, though more than twice as large, were worth 
only about $15 each. In addition there was nearly 


380 REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 

one-hundred pounds of gold dust in sacks, and about 
ninety pounds of silver Spanish coin in other sacks, 
mixed with which was fifty or sixty pounds of gold 
coin. After a rough estimate, they decided that the 
treasure entire was worth from $85,000 to $90,000, 
and would weigh over five hundred pounds avoir- 
dupois. The other property they must transport to 
the sound could not by any means be narrowed down 
to less than two hundred and seventy-five pounds. 
There was the bear-skin, which, though partially 
cured, would not weigh less than fifty pounds. The 
elk horns Uncle Festus judged would weigh seventy- 
five pounds. Their blankets, tools, provisions, etc., 
at least one hundred and fifty, making two hundred 
and seventy-five, which, added to the five hundred 
and twenty-five pounds of treasure, made eight 
hundred pounds, or nearly half a ton for five men. 

“It’s quite plain we don’t want any more stuff to 
pack outen here,” remarked Uncle Festus, grimly. 

“I’m good fer two hundred pounds outen here, 
an’ I’ll pack fifteen or twenty pounds o’ gold in my 
pockets beside if you’ll gin it to me,” grinned Elias. 

“I can carry one hundred and seventy-five pounds 
or even more of that metal,” remarked Peroux in 
his soft voice, “and make the coast in three and a 
half days, too,” he added. 

“Put me down for one hundred and seventy-five 
pounds on an occasion like this,” chimed in Perry. 

Uncle Festus sat, pencil in hand, and after some 
figuring looked at Rex and asked: “Can you do one 
hundred pound if I do one hundred and fifty?” 

“Yes, or one hundred and twenty-five pounds, 


AND NOW FOR THE COAST 


38i 


Uncle, but what’s the use of all this labor? I have 
a- scheme. With these tools at hand here we can 
make a sledge that will weigh less than one hundred 
pounds, that will carry the whole pack. It’s not 
bulky. We have wire, some nails, plenty of rope, 
and can make the sledge in half a day. WeTl make 
the bottom of it of cedar plank, two and one-half 
inches thick and two feet or more wide. A sledge 
§ight feet or less long will carry all that pack, for it 
is far from bulky. We’ll bevel the nose of the plank, 
shoe it each side and in the middle with poles of a 
natural crook, and put gunwales on the top of the 
same kind; strong cross-pieces will keep it from 
splitting or spreading, and these on top at intervals 
will keep stuff from sliding off. We can make up 
our five packs, straps and all, put them on this sledge, 
and from it run the big inch rope with two cross- 
bars and a pair of straps ahead for those pretty little 
shoulders of Elias. We’ll have a pair of ropes, one 
at each rear corner, and down grade two of us on 
each rope can keep it from scooting onto Elias. Up 
out of this treeless valley, over into the next, and 
the next and clear to the top of the big pass, we will 
have nothing but clear sailing. Down from the pass 
we will be able to make twenty or twenty-five miles 
without packing. That means forty miles of the 
journey. Then we will have thirty to forty miles 
of such rough climbing along the canons of the Big 
River that I think it will be best to pack, but by 
that time we will have our grub reduced, be near 
enough home to throw away or cache every extra 
pound possible ; and I am sure we can reach the 


3 82 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


sound within a week — that is. if the snow has gone 
down as fast as you fellows report. ” 

This plan struck all as a good one, and Perry and 
Uncle Festus, who were very handy with tools of 
any kind, soon had the plank out, while Elias was 
hunting for natural crooks. In twenty-four hours 
the sledge was finished and all was ready for the 
start. Rex had calculated on a grand hunt when 
the others came, but he was now toe anxious to ge t # 
home to think of that. The others, while tempted, 
realized the magnitude of the task before them, 
dreaded a change of weather, which might bring an 
impassable snow at any season, and so, early on the 
morning of May 29th they set out. They made 
good time over the smooth grass of the valleys, and 
by a little care got over the first two passes without 
a carry. They took the mutilated chests as far as 
the Bottomless Pit and threw them in in order to 
hide all traces of their find. The sledge stood the 
wear well, becoming smooth and sliding more easily 
than at the start. At every stop that was made they 
smeared the runners liberally with marmot grease. 
That night they encamped at the foot of the ridge 
which the grand pass cuts over opposite Mount 
Olympus, and were not particularly fagged, though 
they had come from fifteen to eighteen miles. 

The next morning at ten o’clock they had reached 
the pass, but were more nearly worn out by their 
five hours’ work than they had been by their four- 
teen hours of the day before. However, they were 
cheered by the thought that while they had now 
great dangers to encounter, they would not have as 


AND NOW FOR THE COAST 


3^3 


hard pulling for the next few hours, and might be able 
to reach Camp Seven by that night. It was cloudy 
when they went through the pass. So much so 
that they could not see the sound country. Indeed, 
the clouds were driving through the pass like thick 
fog, and at one time they feared they must camp 
down in the deep snow and await a clear day. 
However, the crust being hard and there being no 
slides, they toiled carefully down. At noon they 
were some three miles from the sky line, as nearly 
as they could judge, although they could not see on 
account of the clouds above, which had rolled up yet 
thicker. Every man was on his mettle now, and 
with extreme care they worked their way down 
over the crust through that rocky defile. 

On every hand strange mosses, rocks, and pieces 
of quartz and float tempted them, but they set their 
faces resolutely forward and toiled on, well know- 
ing that to tarry was to run the risk of a snow-slide 
that might bury them and their treasure for years, 
if not forever from sight. They found far less 
snow than was to be seen a month before, and at 
seven o’clock, when tired and fagged out they 
reached Camp Seven, they found only about four 
feet of snow in the vicinity. That night they slept 
soundly, “all cuddled together like a passle o’ pups,” 
as Uncle Festus said, in that log box. The next 
morning the skies were yet overcast as if threatening 
snow, but none fell, and during that third day they 
made nine or ten miles over even that rough 
country; encamping at night some distance above 
the junction of the Third Branch. 


384 


REX WAYLAND'S FORTUNE 


The fourth day was the worst of all, and one never 
to be forgotten by any of them. They packed and 
drew the sledge by turns, doubling their trail across 
the face of precipices and over logs spanning that 
roaring, angry river, which now, swelled by the 
spring thaws, was really terrible. In a hundred 
places that day a slip of the foot would have meant 
instant death to one or two men and the loss of 
from twelve to fifteen thousand dollars of treasure. 
The fifth day brought them below the snow line and 
within fifteen miles of tide water, but with the 
original sledge and a successor worn out, and every 
man in such condition that packing was almost out 
of the question. Elias reduced the weight of his 
pack at this point very materially by consenting to 
leave the elk horns for a second trip, and all reduced 
their burden of treasure by dividing up with him. 
The reduction of food and the leaving of the elk 
horns reduced the weight of the packs to an aggre- 
gate of about six hundred and fifty pounds, and that 
afternoon at four o’clock Rex hung up his bear- 
hide in a compact bundle, bringing the weight down 
to about six hundred pounds. At dark that night 
they reached the foot of the last mountain and 
encamped on the Big River where it bursts out of 
its curved canon, five miles from the coast at Jack- 
son’s cove. 

It was not until three o’clock the next afternoon, 
however, that they reached the beach and encamped 
beside the little run near the abandoned school- 
house, built there in the days of the “boom.” They 
wr'e now completely worn out, with dark circles 


AND NOW FOR THE COAST 385 

under glassy eyes and faces of a pasty hue, showing 
even through the grime of travel. Strange to relate, 
Uncle Festus and Perry stood the trip best of all in 
appearance, and the old man really had the strength 
to back up his looks. Elias was as nearly dead as 
a man can be and still move, and at intervals, as he 
staggered along the trail, he silently wept like a 
grieved but shamefaced child. It is, indeed, strange 
how men will act under such a strain. Some will 
whimper and whine from the first, but stand hard- 
ship longer than those who mutely and bravely bear 
the trials, to collapse in a heap when endurance is 
finally broken. Rex was of the latter stamp, and 
was helpless, or nearly so, when they reached the 
beach. But when it is remembered that he was but 
nineteen years of age, weighed only one hundred 
and forty pounds and had packed for days over that 
awful trail nearly his own weight, this can hardly 
be wondered at. 

It is four miles up along shore to Brinnon, but 
Uncle Festus and Perry went up together to hire a 
big boat there for the journey across. They returned 
at nine p.m., and were allowed to sleep until five 
o’clock the next morning, although Elias, Rex and 
Peroux, who had slept all the evening before, arose 
at two o’clock, cooked breakfast and loaded the boat 
for the trip of twelve miles across. 


CHAPTER XLI 


A MOTHER’S ANXIETY HOME AT LAST DIVISION OF 

THE SPANISH TREASURE 

It was about eight o’clock in the morning and 
Mrs. Wayland, worn out by sleepless nights and 
anxiety, felt that she could contain herself no 
longer if she remained in the camp. She deter- 
mined to go out to the headland at the north 
entrance of the bay and look across that wide 
stretch of water. Following the beach and hurry- 
ing along, with weak limbs and aching heart, she 
had nearly reached the point, when her fortitude 
forsook her and she felt as if she must turn back. 
What if she should look out around that point and 
see four men in a boat rowing across with the 
body of a fifth? How could she bear such a sight? 
In her morbid condition she now saw the mangled 
remains of her son and suffered worse pangs from 
her imagination there and then than a more 
phlegmatic temperament would have suffered facing 
the cruel reality. She sank down beside a log that 
the waves had thrown up, and, not daring to go to 
the point and look out, prayed for strength and faith. 
Even as she prayed, the sound of rowlocks fell on 
her ears, and looking out she beheld a boat rounding 
the point not five hundred feet away, with Rex, her 
precious, manly son, standing straight up, pushing 
lustily at an oar and looking eagerly across the 

386 




A MOTHER’S ANXIETY 


387 


water toward the camp. Even at that distance she 
could see love shining in his eyes. The excess of 
joy was too great. She could not at first move, but 
felt that she must. With one long indrawing breath 
which sounded like a sob, she sprang to her feet and 
ran toward the beach. They did not see her. She 
must scream or they would not stop. She did call 
faintly, and with this last effort of consciousness, 
fell limply into the water. When she came to herself 
again, it was to find strong but wet arms about her 
and kisses and tears showering on her face. For an 
instant she sobbed, but then, with a sudden straight- 
ening of her nervy little frame, exclaimed: “Well! 
Well! What a fool I am making of myself before 
all these men ! Rex, put me into that boat. Come 
right across to camp now and I’ll have something 
ready for you men to eat in just a few minutes. ’’ 
She settled herself down in the boat quite primly, 
but as she looked up and beheld the fond eyes of her 
son, noted the dark circles under them, the haggard 
cheeks and thin hands, she commenced sobbing 
again, and in a breath had him in her arms. At this 
second outburst Uncle Festus broke down too and 
began drying his eyes on his shirt sleeve, forgetting 
to row. Perry was blowing his nose vigorously and 
shoving his oar edgewise through the water. Big 
Elias, the tears streaming from both eyes, was 
rowing lustily and turning the boat round and round 
in a circle without seeming to know it. Peroux, his 
square jaw set like a vise, shed no tears, but his lips 
trembled and he looked as if he must break down 
soon. 



MRS. WAYLAND MEETS THE TREASURE BEARERS. 


388 



A MOTHER’S ANXIETY 


389 

“Dumed if I don’t feel like huggin’ ye myself,” 
almost blubbered big Elias, whereat all laughed and 
Mrs. Wayland, understanding him, even while 
blushing furiously reached over and planted a bird- 
like, motherly little kiss on his cheek. He looked 
as if he were going to faint for a second, and then 
his face grew very red and he rowed more furiously 
than ever. Peroux and Uncle Festus on the oppo- 
site side were convulsed with laughter; but seeing 
that he was annoyed by this, they caught his strokes 
and the boat was soon at the raft. Their arrival 
created but little stir, the men being all away in the 
woods at work, and within a few minutes Rex had 
every brick, sack and nugget in the big safe. Then 
calling all into the office, he began : 

“Uncle Festus, may I settle with these men?” 
Uncle Festus nodded, and Rex asked: “Elias, when 
did we start out? How many days has it been since 
we left here?” 

Elias not answering quickly, Uncle Festus an- 
swered for him: “Thirty-nine.” 

‘ ‘ All right. Five times thirty-nine are one hundred 
and ninety-five. That’s one hundred and ninety-five 
ounces of gold you’re to have.” 

Elias’ jaw fell wide open, and as he slowly drew 
it into speaking shape again he blurted out: “Do 
you know that one hundred and ninety-five ounces 
o’ gold is wuth more’n $3,000? I won’t take it.” 

“Yes, you will take it. You’re going to take it if 
I have to pack it out to that boat of yours myself. 
More than that, you and all of you have my ever- 
lasting gratitude. Peroux and Perry, you’ve been 


39 ° 


REX WAYLAND’S FORTUNE 


out thirteen days, I believe. Five times thirteen are 
sixty-five. Will sixty-five ounces each be satisfactory 
to you?” 

Both protested that sixty-five ounces was too much 
for less than half a month’s- work, but Rex was firm, 
and when Elias’ $3,150 had been weighed out they 
took nearly $1,100 each. The only return Rex 
exacted was secrecy, and three happy men departed 
the next morning as well as three who would not 
spread idle stories. Rex and Uncle Festus now 
began weighing up their treasure and found that 
there was left 4,380 ounces of gold, worth at that 
time $16.10 per ounce, and 2,743 ounces of silver, 
worth fifty-nine cents an ounce. This brought the 
value of their find, after deducting all expenses, to 

$72,136.37- 

‘‘Of that I want you to take one-half, Uncle Fes- 
tus,” said Rex, as soon as they had ceased figuring. 
The old man shook his head and laughed. 

“Ye ain’t got any hired hand to deal with this 
time, my boy. I’ll take jest what I darn please, 
an’ I won’t take any more. ” Rex opened his mouth 
to expostulate and began telling the old man how 
much he had done for them, winding up with: 
“Why, you went into business just to give mother 
and me a livelihood.” The old man cut him 
short and went on: “Yes; I did partly fer that, but 
by your management an’ her’n, it all turned inter 
big profit. I won’t take any half, I tell ye, so ye 
may as well save yer wind, but if you an’ she’ll 
take one third each, I’ll take t’other third an’ go 
right over to Seattle ter-morrow an’ have Senator 


A MOTHER’S ANXIETY 


391 


Frank Lewis draw me a will what’ll give ye my hull 
estate when I die, fer I swar, it begins ter look as if 
I’d hev an estate.” 

“If we’ll agree to such a division, will you agree 
to always make your home with us and be uncle to 
both?” 

“Yes; I’ll be uncle to both on ye all the rest o’ 
my days, pervidin’ you, my boy, will quit this camp 
an’ go back to school so I won’t be ashamed on ye. ” 

“He will,” promised Mrs. Wayland, decisively. 

“Ye see, if I got ter be uncle to anybody, I’d 
ruther be related to a lawyer, a doctor or a minis- 
ter, ” continued Uncle Festus in mock apology. 

“Well, it’s a bargain, Uncle. I’ll have a try at 
Washington University this fall, and if I’ve brains 
enough I’ll make you both proud of me yet.” 

“We’re that now,” said Mrs. Wayland in a low 
voice, and through her tears of happiness shone a 
mother love more precious than gold or silver. 


THE END 


















































































































































































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